


So Long

by OwlHooots



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 204,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlHooots/pseuds/OwlHooots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank Iero lived most of his life watching from a safe distance, away from the dangers, away from it all, but then some "crazy ass hole" decides to come fuck it all up. Whose fault is it really, the crazy ass hole's or his own? When walls are being torn down, there's bound to be destruction and bound to be a cost. So who will be the one to pay it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Demolition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IMPORTANT NOTE TO KEEP IN MIND BEFORE READING THIS FIC** I chose not to use archive warnings, which means there are some things in this story that may potentially bother some people. I decided not to identify them because they were a little too spoiler-y and although an occasional spoiler here and there never hurt anyone, the ones I would have to give away would take A LOT away from the overall story. So just keep that in mind... if you've got questions about it, feel free to contact me about it on [Tumblr!](http://owlhooots.tumblr.com/ask) Otherwise, if you're good with all that, I hope you enjoy! :)
> 
> Works inspired by this fic:
> 
> [Art for chapters 1-10](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/post/79932855933/), [chapters 11-20](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/post/80010559879/) by the lovely [ray-tororo](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/) (Quite spoilery so beware)
> 
> [Mix](http://8tracks.com/solidghosts/so-long) by the wonderful [solidghosts](http://solidghosts.tumblr.com/)

Wake up. Possibly shower. Get dressed. Make coffee. Drink coffee. Walk to work. Work. Close. Go home. Eat. Sleep.

That was Frank Iero’s basic routine every day, any sort of unexpected interruption being a rarity. He lived by these steps and he enjoyed it. He enjoyed the expectancy and his expectations being met. He hated surprises and he hated being in situations if he didn’t know what the outcome would be. It may not have been the healthiest way to live, but it worked for him.

He was twenty six and had almost no social life. If he could keep himself alive by making money that would buy him food and put a roof over his head, he was content. He didn’t need the hassles that came with having too many friends. It had been long since he lost touch with any of his family. It was a miracle if he gave in and called his parents on Christmas or New Year. That seemed like an asshole thing to do, but Frank just wanted to live his life peacefully. From what he’d learned in his lifetime, interacting with people was detrimental to the ideology of “living in peace.”

The only person who came remotely close to being called a friend was the guy who did his tattoos. It took Frank years of constantly revisiting the tattoo shop to actually get familiar enough to know his name: John McGuire, which was exactly the name Frank used when referring to him. He never called him John or even the formal Mr. McGuire; he addressed him as John McGuire. The man eventually got sick of the unnerving formality, so he insisted on Frank calling him Hambone. Frank didn’t like the idea of nicknames; it meant they were getting close, but the man did his tattoos and he had to stay on his good side, so he complied.

Other than that, though, his best friend was his job, and his job involved music, and that was far more than enough to keep him happy—or at least his definition of happy. Ever since he was a kid, the one thing he loved was music, and over the years, that love never faltered. To be able to basically own the music shop he now worked in was a dream come true. The actual owner had many branches of the music store Frank worked in, so that specific store that Frank managed was basically his. As long as the profits never stopped, Frank was free to run it however he pleased. This meant, of course, he never hired other workers, ran the store himself, and allowed it to be the perfect excuse for his anti-social lifestyle.

Frank had built himself this perfect little shelter with an unfaltering barrier that kept him away from the world. He considered it to be one of his strongest creations. Little did he know it wouldn’t be holding up for long.

_Let the demolition begin._


	2. Chapter 1: Not Normal

Frank stood at the register of his record store, scrolling aimlessly through his iPod, while keeping a subconscious eye on the customers who were browsing the aisles. His hair, dyed black, hung down the side of his face, having grown longer than he liked, but he hadn’t gotten around to trimming it. Two piercings adorned his face, one on his nose, the other on his lip. A tight-fitting T-shirt, which had a band logo that had long been faded, hugged his body, the short sleeves allowing his tattoo littered arms to be exposed. His hazel eyes flicked up occasionally to check on the customers, then back down to his iPod.

The customers in the store were a couple of teenage girls. Once they found what they were looking for, they made their way over to the cash register. Frank had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. They’d spent a long time in the shop, and all they’d managed to decide on was some celebrity gossip magazine. He hated even having those in the shop because they attracted people like these two girls, who were giggling at the air, and it made his eye brow twitch. Being judgmental was not his thing, and he gave everyone the benefit of the doubt, but occasionally he allowed himself a slandering thought or two.

“Find everything okay?” he asked, a forced grin on his face.

One of the girls nodded, her grin matching his, but most likely not as forced. He rang them up, going as quickly as he could, and sent them on their way, purposely leaving out the robotic, “come back soon,” that was usually said at the end of a transaction.

They walked out, leaving Frank to his iPod before he heard the chime of the bell that hung above the door, signaling another person walking in. He glanced up shortly, noticing that a man had taken the place of the teenage girls. Frank’s glance was short, enough to notice a pale white face standing out against black clothes and black hair. Frank’s eyes were focused on his iPod, but kept his ears open, catching the shuffling of the man’s feet against the floor as he browsed the aisles.

Just seconds later, the man now stood at the register in front of Frank.

“Find everything okay?” Frank asked robotically, taking the CD from the man’s hands, inwardly nodding in approval at the Misfits CD he had picked out.

“Yup,” the pale man answered. “I bought that CD here, like, a long time ago, but it broke, so here I am.”

Frank nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line as he scanned the CD. The man paid for his CD and Frank nodded, smiling forcibly as he recited his speech. “Have a good day and come back soon.”

“Actually,” the man said, holding the bagged CD in one hand, and shoving the other into the pocket of his skinny jeans, “are you hiring?”

“No, sorry,” Frank said, shrugging.

The man let out an exasperated and dramatic sigh.

“Man!” he groaned, stomping his foot like a child, suddenly eliminating all aspects of maturity that were once part of his features. “Why is no one hiring?!”

Frank stood there awkwardly, knowing it was a rhetorical question, and being glad, because he didn’t want to say anything either. He just simply watched the pale man before him run his hand through his long black hair.

“Please,” he said, desperation coating his word. “I need this really bad.”

“Sorry,” Frank shrugged, “I’m just not hir—”

“I’ll work for below minimum wage,” the man interrupted.

“Uh, you know the definition of minimum right?” Frank retorted, already getting fed up with the man’s stubbornness. He didn’t like pushy people.

“You know, I’ll even work here with no pay!” the man said, completely disregarding Frank’s sarcastic remark.

“What would that do for you?” Frank raised his eye brow at the man before him.

“Look,” the man sighed, leaning down so he could rest his elbows on the counter. This brought the man even closer to Frank and Frank instinctively took a step back. He also didn’t like his personal space being invaded. The man ignored the gesture that would typically been considered insulting. “You know the comic book store that’s, like, a couple stores down?”

Frank nodded.

“I work there with my boyfriend and I just really need to get away from him right now, like a break,” the man explained. “If I just quit, it’ll be really weird, but if I say I got a job that pays better, he’ll understand and won’t be suspicious. I’ll do all the work you tell me, all you have to do is pretend I’m actually getting paid.”

“You’re gay,” Frank said instinctively, having zeroed in on that part of the man’s rant more than anything else.

“Uh, yeah,” the man spoke slowly, shifting away from the counter. “Is…is that a problem or something?”

“I don’t really like people who are gay,” Frank said, shrugging his shoulders.

“So you’re a homophobe, huh?” the man’s eye brows had furrowed.

“No,” Frank shook his head, “I don’t mind that people are gay. There’s nothing wrong with being gay. I just don’t like gay people.”

“That makes no sense,” the man shook his head. “How can you be—you know, never mind! If you don’t want fags working in your store, fine by me!”

“Don’t use that word,” Frank said as the man was about to spin on his heels and leave. “How am I the homophobe if I at least have the decency not to use that word?”

The man just blinked at Frank. He couldn’t for the life of him understand how it was possible to hate gay people, yet not be a homophobe.

“I don’t get you,” the man said.

Frank just shrugged and stood there, an awkward silence forming between them.

“Well if you say you’re not a homophobe, will you please do me this favor?” the man went back to his begging.

“I told you I’m not hiring,” Frank said, almost laughing at how quickly the man had forgotten that he had been seriously insulted.

“Come on,” the man persisted. “If anything, just let it be for a week or two until I find another job. I really cannot be around my boyfriend. I swear I’ll do all the work as if I was getting paid. Just a week or two, and I’m out of here, job or no job.”

“You’re stubborn,” Frank shook his head, already not wanting to allow this guy in his shop because of the sheer fact that he annoyed him.

“Please,” the man begged one last time, looking right into Frank’s eyes. “I really need this.”

Frank couldn’t help but detect the sincerity and true desperation in the man’s voice and eyes. He began to wonder about what could have been so horrible about his boyfriend that he was doing this much just to get away from him, yet not break up with him. Frank quickly shut his thoughts up, not allowing himself to grow curious about some stranger.

“Fine,” Frank gave in, unable to take much more of the man’s annoying persistence. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll give you two days to show that you can actually work here. If you’re good, I’ll take you for two weeks exactly. I’ll pay you, but in two weeks, you will be done whether you found a job or not.”

What had to be the biggest smile known to mankind appeared on the man’s face, revealing every small tooth in his mouth.

“Thank you so much!” he exclaimed. He extended his hand forward. “I’m Gerard Way, your new employee.”

“Temporary,” Frank rolled his eyes, taking his hand in a short handshake. “Frank Iero. Be here tomorrow at eight.”

“Will do, Boss!” Gerard nodded happily.

“Frank,” Frank corrected him. “Just Frank.”

“Right,” Gerard nodded. “Frank. But you can call me Gee. It’s easier than Gerard.”

“No, thanks,” Frank said plainly. “Gerard.”

Frank actually expected Gerard to be repulsed by his—for lack of a better word—rudeness. Other people that had come looking for a job, after being plainly rejected, walked away without a glance back.

“Ok, whatever works for you,” Gerard smiled. “I guess I’ll go let my boyfriend know, then. Thanks again. It means so much to me, Frank, you have no idea.”

“Right, yeah, whatever,” Frank shrugged. “Two weeks.”

Gerard nodded happily, still smiling and walked out of the record store, waving to Frank through the window even after he was outside.

Everything about Gerard agitated Frank. He was too cheerful, he was too stubborn, and he was much too comfortable around strangers, yet Frank had hired him. The only thing redeemable about him was his taste in music. Frank figured that maybe that had been the trigger to him giving in. Usually, the people that came to look for a job were teenagers who didn’t even know about 90% of the bands featured in that store. Frank decided that that was it. He had a weak spot for music.

The one thing, though, that annoyed Frank more than anything was the fact that Gerard just kept bouncing back no matter how rude or insulting Frank was. For Frank, whenever he wanted to push people away, all he had to do was unleash a few of his sarcastic remarks and they were fleeing away from him in seconds. Normal people were easy for Frank to get rid of. Gerard was not normal.


	3. Chapter 2: Paper, Pencil, and Headphones

Frank arrived at his music store at exactly eight o’clock in the morning, finding that Gerard was already outside, waiting patiently, a steaming cup of coffee clutched in both hands and held closely to his lips.

He was wearing all black as he was yesterday, his pale, but slightly flushed from the cold, face standing out in the dull hue of the morning light. The only color other than his face was the chocolate brown messenger bag that was slung across his torso, hanging at his side.

“Morning, Frank,” he greeted happily when he saw Frank approaching. His slightly upturned nose was red at the tip.

“Yeah, morning,” Frank mumbled, unused to the perkiness, much less that early in the morning. He unlocked the door as per usual, walked in, and Gerard followed closely behind him.

“So why do you come here so early in the morning?” Gerard asked, already ruining Frank’s daily ritual because Frank liked it to be silent whenever there were no customers. “No one comes till way later.”

Frank shrugged, not sure if Gerard could see it from behind him, but he didn’t bother to check. He shoved the keys into his pocket and got himself settled in the chair he had sitting behind the register.

“So,” Gerard said, leaning against the counter like he did the day before, causing Frank to scoot his chair back slightly, “we can just sit all morning?”

“No,” Frank shook his head, “I can. You have things to do.”

“Oh!” Gerard grinned. “Work, right! Ok, what do you need me to do, Boss?”

“Frank,” Frank corrected him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a list he had written up the night before. He had put so much thought into what he could have Gerard do just so he could keep him busy for the entirety of the day. “Start with this.” Frank laid the list out on the counter and pointed to the first thing. Gerard leaned in an uncomfortably close distance and Frank held himself from backing away.

“Shelve new inventory,” Gerard read out loud after taking a sip of his coffee. “Ok, where’s the new inventory?”

“There’s a box there,” Frank pointed to the door that was over his right shoulder. “Go bring it and I’ll show you where they go.”

Gerard nodded, set his coffee down on the counter, and went to the door that Frank had told him. He opened it and noticed that it was like a small employee’s lounge almost. There was a sofa there, accompanied by a water cooler, and on the side there was a door to the bathroom. Gerard smiled at the fact that Frank never hired, yet there was a room made for more than one employee. He pulled his messenger bag off and tossed it onto the old sofa that looked simply run down with age, but not use. Gerard then bent over and picked up the box that was on the floor, and walked back out to Frank.

“You know the aisle where you got your Misfits CD yesterday?” Frank asked. Gerard nodded. “They go there. There’s a section that’s completely empty. Put the CD’s in alphabetical order, by artist.”

“Got it,” Gerard nodded. “You can finish my coffee if you want. It’s already too cold for me. I only like it when it’s steaming.”

Frank looked down at the cup on the counter and raised his eye brow.

“Gross,” he muttered, unsure of whether or not Gerard heard, but not caring either way. Gerard smiled, spun around, and shuffled over to start stacking the CD’s. Frank looked down at the drink again. As if he could ever share a drink with a stranger.

“I don’t have herpes,” Gerard laughed, setting the box down on the floor and pulling it open. “But it’s cool, I get it.”

Frank decided he was better off not saying anything, so he just sat at his chair and pulled out his iPod.

“You know,” Gerard spoke, interrupting Frank’s silence once again, “you should have music playing here.”

Frank just continued scrolling through his iPod, hoping that Gerard would take the hint and stop talking.

“You can get this thing and plug your iPod into it,” Gerard continued. “Then have speakers in the store. I mean it’s a music store, it should have music.”

“Don’t really see a need for that,” Frank shrugged.

“Oh come on,” Gerard went on. “It’s a really good idea. The place is so quiet all the time; it gets dull.”

Frank looked up at Gerard, wanting to laugh right in his face. That was what he wanted, silence. He enjoyed the silence and Gerard was not, in any way, allowing him to enjoy it.

“It can be really subtle and soft,” Gerard persisted. “Just like background music.”

“Right, yeah, I’ll look into that,” Frank mumbled, just wanting to shut Gerard up.

“What if…” Gerard piped up again and it took all Frank had not to groan and slam his head against the counter. “What if you end up really liking me as an employee? And then make me, like, co-manager and we run this place together. I think we’d do a pretty good job.”

“No,” Frank said sharply. “Never.”

“You never know,” Gerard sang.

“Oh, I do,” Frank insisted, choosing to be the stubborn for that purpose. “Two weeks is all you have.”

“Your loss,” Gerard shrugged, glancing over the stack of CD’s in his hand. “I’ve never heard of these bands.”

“Local bands,” Frank said simply.

“Oh! No way, that’s awesome. A lot of the stores hardly have local music.”

“Yeah, I bugged my boss for it,” Frank nodded, surprisingly not annoyed, because he enjoyed the subject matter. “There’s some really good ones in there, too. I think they’ll get somewhere.”

“You recommend any?” Gerard asked, placing them carefully into the shelf. “I’ll buy a couple.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I love finding new music.”

“I’ll pick a couple of them out for you later,” Frank offered.

“Wow,” Gerard laughed.

“What?”

“This is the most polite you’ve been since we met,” Gerard mused. “Now I know your thing is music.”

“No shit, I own a music store,” Frank scoffed, regretting the casual conversation.

“There you go again,” Gerard giggled and Frank forced himself not to laugh at how girly it sounded.

Gerard picked up the now empty box and took it back to the lounge in the back.

“You already finished?” Frank asked as Gerard reemerged from the room, tucking the long strands of his dark hair behind his ears.

“Yup,” he nodded, walking in front of the register to look at the list that Frank had composed.

“That was fast,” Frank noted, sliding the list closer to Gerard and then walking around the register so he could examine how well Gerard had done his job.

Gerard stayed behind, scanning the list of things he had to do, while Frank looked at the neatly displayed CD’s. They were, just as he had asked, in alphabetical order by artist. He nodded approvingly at how neatly and quickly Gerard had completed his first task.

“Shit, I forgot the sign,” Frank mumbled to himself, looking above the display of local artists. There was no sign signifying what section it was. Every other section had a sign that noted the genre.

“What sign?” Gerard called, having heard him since it was so quiet.

“That says that these are local bands,” Frank answered. “I wanted people to notice.”

“I could make one,” Gerard offered.

“I don’t want a hand written sign. People would walk right by it.”

“No, I can make it look really nice, I swear,” Gerard insisted and Frank was about to argue, but he remembered who he was talking to. He would just have to put up with more of Gerard’s infuriating persistence if he began to counter him for even a second.

Frank turned away from the CD’s and walked back over to the register, taking his seat again while Gerard stared at him, waiting for his answer. His eyes were just as persistent as his nasally voice.

“Fine,” Frank sighed, getting sick and tired of always losing to this guy. “Finish the second thing on the list, then make a sign, and if it looks nice, I’ll keep it. But if it looks like shit, I’m throwing it out.”

“It won’t, I promise!” Gerard exclaimed, an excited smile lighting up his face.

The next thing on the list was to dust down all the shelves and CD’s and Gerard got right to it. There was a feather duster in the lounge, which was basically serving as a supply closet. Gerard began quickly but intently dusting every single shelf in the store.

“So how often do you do this?” Gerard asked, just as Frank was about to plug his ears with headphones.

“What?” Frank asked, irritated.

“Dusting.”

“At least once a week,” Frank answered.

“It’s pretty tiring,” Gerard noted as he moved onto the next aisle. Frank nodded wordlessly, which he hoped would mean the end of conversation, but Gerard continued nonetheless. “You do really good making this store look nice. The comic store I used to work at looked like shit. We never bother with dusting; it seems like such a hard job with no point.”

“The dust gathers,” Frank noted plainly.

“I know, I noticed that now,” Gerard said, bending over to reach the lower shelves. “I’m trying to compliment you. I’m telling you that you pay attention to small details and it makes the store look nice.”

“If you’re trying to kiss ass so I can keep you longer than two weeks, it’s not gonna work.”

“No, I swear!” Gerard said, standing up quickly so he could face Frank over the shelves, being taller than them, so their eyes met. “I’m being serious and I don’t kiss ass.”

“Ok,” Frank shrugged, “um, thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome,” Gerard grinned, going back to his dusting.

Frank took advantage of the short silence and quickly plugged his hears with his headphones, blocking out all sound with the music blaring in his ears. He leaned his elbows against the counter and brought his folded hands up to his lips, shutting his eyes and allowing himself to be lost in the music.

That day, he had “Hatebreeders” by the Misfits on repeat. He occasionally chose an old favorite of his and obsessed over it for a day or two, listening to nothing else. His foot was tapping along to the beat when his fifth repeat of the song was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

Frank opened his eyes and saw Gerard standing in front of him, smiling, and holding the duster against his chest. He said something, but Frank couldn’t hear, so he slipped a headphone out of one ear and waited for Gerard to repeat himself.

“I’m done,” Gerard said.

“Ok,” Frank nodded.

“Do you have, like, something you wanted me to make the sign on?” Gerard asked.

“Do a quick sketch before you actually make the sign,” Frank said. “I mean, just in case I don’t like it, you don’t have to waste your time.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded. “I have my sketchpad in my bag. I’ll be in the lounge if you need anything.”

Frank nodded, and Gerard walked into the “lounge” as he decided to call it. Frank took advantage of the silence, choosing not to deafen himself with music. He just laid his head down on his folded arms and enjoyed the peaceful silence he was usually able to enjoy when he was by himself. Something about being in a record store but being in silence always fascinated Frank. It was a contradiction that worked so perfectly for him. He shut his eyes for a moment, having always enjoyed darkness. Anytime he could relax, he just wanted to close his eyes and allow his other senses to live for him.

“Frank,” a voice spoke and Frank’s head snapped up, like the ears of a dog when it hears a sound in the distance. Frank saw Gerard standing in front of the counter again. “Sorry, were you asleep?”

“Just relaxing,” Frank shook his head. “You done with the sketch?”

Gerard nodded, holding a sketchbook to his chest, but having the blank side facing Frank. He pulled the sketchbook away from his body slightly to look at it, but still kept it away from Frank, feeling anxious about showing his creation, even if it was just a simple sketch, to anyone, especially a stranger.

“I’m kind of nervous,” Gerard sighed.

“It’s just a sign,” Frank said.

“Yeah, but it’s still art,” Gerard shrugged, looking down again at the paper in front of him, eyeing it like there was a person on that paper staring right back at him, but not just any person, like it was a person he loved with all his heart. “ _My_ art.”

Frank could see the emotion in Gerard’s eyes, even if they weren’t facing him. He felt extremely uncomfortable to be put in such an emotional situation. He had his hands at the edge of the counter, drumming it with his fingers. His feet were propped up on the legs of the chair, bouncing up and down.

“I won’t hate it,” Frank said, pulling his hand up to the back of his neck and scratching at it. “I mean, maybe I won’t like it as a sign, but I won’t hate it. Just show it to me.”

Gerard’s eyes finally snapped up to meet Frank’s, except that Frank wasn’t looking at him. He was glancing nervously around the room, practically praying to whoever or whatever answered prayers to hurry up and make Gerard show him the sign so that the emotions could be drained out of the room.

“Ok,” Gerard sighed. “Ok, alright.”

Gerard took a deep breath and slapped the sketchbook onto the counter, startling Frank with the sudden noise. Frank blinked a few times before actually focusing on the lightly penciled in sketch before him.

“Local Bands” was written in such an elegant font that Frank would have sworn it was printed out somehow if it wasn’t for the obvious fact that it was pencil. The line of the letter “B” in “Bands” stretched out into an elegant swirl that engulfed the rest of the letters. A remarkable amount of crosshatching was done around the letters, giving it a spotlight effect.

“You really did this?” Frank asked, lifting the sketchbook up to his face to get a closer look. He couldn’t lie. No matter how annoying Gerard was, he had done an amazing job.

“Yeah, obviously,” Gerard giggled.

“It’s really good,” Frank nodded, setting the sketchbook down again. “I was just expecting nice handwriting to be honest, but this looks really good. And you did it fast.”

“You really think so?” Gerard beamed, his tiny teeth flaunting themselves as his nose wrinkled and his eyes shrunk.

“I think you can tell that I don’t bull shit,” Frank shrugged. “I mean what I say.”

“So you want me to actually do a sign? I’ll even add color.”

“That would be awesome,” Frank nodded. “It’ll really draw attention to that section, too. Perfect.”

“When do you want me to do it?”

“You can just bring it tomorrow,” Frank shrugged. “Or just bring the supplies tomorrow and do it here in the morning. There won’t be much left for you to do.”

“Awesome,” Gerard smiled. “I’ll do that.”

Frank nodded.

“Well, you won’t have to do the next couple of stuff on the list until customers come,” Frank shrugged. “It’ll be busy around three, when school gets out. A lot of kids usually stop by here. They leave a mess.”

“You mind if I bring a chair out here?” Gerard asked.

Frank wanted to say no. He wanted with every fiber of his being to shake his head and tell Gerard that he would rather he stay in the back so he didn’t have to sit through his ear piercing babbling, but he couldn’t get himself to do it. While it was so easy to be rude to people, and it was practically second nature to Frank, Gerard had been helping him. Even if it was a “job,” it was help nonetheless.

“Sure.”

Gerard smiled for the millionth time that day. Frank wondered how his face hadn’t stuck that way permanently. He was in and out of the lounge in seconds, a chair in his arm. He unfolded it right in front of the door of the lounge, which wasn’t far from the register.

Frank was already preparing himself for Gerard’s incessant rambling, but surprisingly it never came. He took a look over his shoulder and saw that Gerard was putting all the energy he used for talking into his hand that was swiftly dragging a pencil across the page. With how lightly his hand moved, it almost seemed as though he wasn’t drawing anything at all.

Frank couldn’t help but be impressed with Gerard’s focus. He was a different person while he was drawing. There were a couple folds of crumpled skin in between his eyebrows where they were tightly knit together. A couple of his miniature teeth were poking out of his mouth, nibbling on the side of his bottom lip. His eyes darted back and forth, dancing across the page. Frank could have continued staring at him, being able to actually appreciate Gerard as an artist while he wasn’t chattering away.

Frank pulled his eyes away after a few more seconds, knowing it was getting weird for him to continue staring. He pulled his headphones up to his ears, his Misfits song still playing since he had never paused it. He got lost in his world of music, just as Gerard was lost in his art.

Art was to Gerard what music was to Frank, an escape from reality, and a portal to a completely different world contained in the most mundane of items: paper, pencil, and a pair of headphones.


	4. Chapter 3: Selfish is Safe

It was the second day of having to put up with Gerard, but Frank was beginning to see that it wasn’t as torturous as he was expecting it to be. Gerard was on time again, quickly did everything Frank needed him to do, and was sitting at his chair in front of the lounge, working arduously at the “Local Bands” sign. The only annoying thing was his constant blabbering, but Frank could deal with that since Gerard managed to make up for it.

Frank occasionally took a look over his shoulder at Gerard, abashedly admiring the artist at work. He didn’t allow his gaze to linger for too long, however, and would turn his attention back to his iPod. On that day he was listening to “Feathers” by Coheed and Cambria, a rather newer favorite of his.

Frank quickly got sucked into the music, but was pulled out of his whirlwind world of sound waves by Gerard’s pencil poking into his shoulder. Frank opened his eyes and would have glared at Gerard if he was not happy to see the finished sign.

“Done?” Frank asked.

Gerard nodded, holding the long, rectangular, glossy paper in his hand. He slid it onto the counter slowly, like it was a fragile piece of glass. Frank’s eyes widened uncontrollably at how amazing the sign looked. He thought the sketch from before was already perfect, but this was even better.

The lettering was done in black, shadowed by crimson red, the two colors intertwining in the swirls that surrounded the letters. The corners of the paper were colored in black, fading before it reached the lettering.

“So, what do you think?” Gerard asked, smiling even though his nerves were eating up at him.

“Wow, this looks really good,” Frank nodded.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s amazing,” Frank sighed, holding up the sign. “You used markers, right?”

“Yeah,” Gerard answered, unable to nod since his face was covered by the sign that Frank was holding up.

“I don’t want it to smudge,” Frank noted, setting the sign back down. “Maybe it should be laminated.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” Gerard agreed. “There’s a place down the street where I usually get my supplies. They can laminate it there. I can go do it right now.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded.

Gerard walked over to the chair that had his messenger bag, slung it over his shoulder, then headed towards the door.

“Uh, hello,” Frank mumbled, trying to catch Gerard before he left. Gerard had forgotten the actual sign on the counter with Frank. “You forgot something.” Gerard still wasn’t hearing him and was about to step out of the door. “Gerard.”

Gerard spun around at the sound of his name, a huge smile on his face.

“Forgot the sign,” Gerard shrugged, walking over to the counter. “I know.”

“Huh?”

“I just wanted to make you say my name,” Gerard laughed. “You haven’t since we met, that’s weird!”

“You’re weird,” Frank rolled his eyes. “Hurry and get the sign done.”

“Alright, alright,” Gerard giggled, sliding the sign carefully off the counter and walking out of the store, leaving Frank to his beloved silence and solitude.

Frank leaned back on his chair, throwing his head back so that he stared up at the ceiling. That bored him quickly, so he took his iPod and unplugged the headphones, allowing the music to play out loud so that he could still hear if a customer walked in. He rested his head against the counter, the music subtly playing in the background. He couldn’t help but think that that was a lot like Gerard’s idea to play music in the store. Frank rolled his eyes at the fact that Gerard’s rambling was still in his head even when he wasn’t there.

A part of Frank actually missed Gerard’s annoying presence. As agitating as it may have been, it was a change from the usual lonesome atmosphere of the record store. Lonesome was what Frank wanted, but an occasional interruption of that didn’t seem too bad. Even when, by some miracle, Gerard was silent, his presence wasn’t that horrible.

Frank cursed at himself mentally. That was always his problem: he got attached to people too quickly. Gerard may have been a nuisance at first, but Frank could see the two of them being good friends. Frank hadn’t really had a friendship in the longest time, so his mind grasped onto one as soon as it saw it coming, but Frank was quick to push it away before it actually became that. He couldn’t let himself get attached after two days of knowing the guy. 

_I’m a fucking idiot._

“No, you’re not,” a voice replied and Frank’s head snapped up, seeing that Gerard was already back. Frank realized he had spoken out loud. “Why do you think you’re an idiot?”

Gerard went over to his chair, setting his messenger bag on it.

“Just forgot something,” Frank shrugged, staring ahead of him, wanting to slap himself for his stupidity. He couldn’t even contain the thoughts in his head. “Did you get the thing laminated?”

“Yup,” Gerard nodded. He carefully pulled the sign out of his bag and held it up, facing Frank. The marker lines were now protected from hands that would smudge it, the lamination making it even shinier than it was before. “Looks good, right?”

Frank nodded. “Go put it up.”

Gerard went over to the local bands section and reached up to the metal holder that was already propped up at the top of the shelf. He carefully slid his piece of art into the metal clips that would hold it up. Once it was firmly in place, he stood back and admired it, proud that he had been the one to create it. People probably wouldn’t even realize that it was hand drawn, but he would be proud enough to know that there were eyes on it.

Frank was about to step around the counter to take a look as well, when the door of the store slammed open, the bell above the door ringing louder than it ever did before. Frank stood up to see who had barged in in such a manner.

“Blake?!” Gerard squeaked, glancing back at Frank, eyes wide, then back to the man at the door.

The man stood tall, well above Gerard, his head shaven and his eyes so piercingly blue that they were practically glowing even to Frank who was all the way across the room. He was dressed casually, in a pair of semi-tight jeans and a white shirt that hugged his fit body.

Gerard ran up to the man, standing close to him, and Frank watched curiously, having no clue what was going on.

“Blake, what are you doing here?” Gerard asked, his voice not as upbeat as it usually was, and barely loud enough for Frank to catch his words.

“Me?!” Blake hissed, his voice carrying through the entire store. “What the fuck are _you_ doing here??”

“I already told you I got a new job,” Gerard said quietly.

“You said you were looking that day,” Blake retorted. “You didn’t fucking tell me you actually got one! And you’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you? You get home and I'm asleep, and I wake up and you're gone. What the fuck is that, Gerard?”

“N-no,” Gerard shook his head, looking down. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Too busy for me?”

“It’s not about you,” Gerard pleaded. “I’ve just been busy.”

“You’re leaving this fucking job,” Blake said. “You’re coming back to work with me.”

“I don’t want to,” Gerard whined. “I-I mean of course I want to, but this job pays so much better and you know how much I need it.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Blake, please—”

Gerard’s begging was interrupted by his own small yell when Blake’s hand came up to his head and took a tight hold of his long black strands of hair. He tugged on it, forcing Gerard’s body to comply and walk towards the door with him.

“Hey!” Frank finally joined the equation, knowing that it had gone too far. He wouldn’t allow something that physical to happen. Frank ran around the corner, feeling a bit intimidated the closer he got to Blake. The guy was huge. “Let go of him.”

“Who the hell are—” Blake had begun, still holding onto Gerard’s hair, but stepping closer to Frank.

“I’m the owner of this store, Gerard is my employee, and if you don’t let him go and get out I will call the cops,” Frank interrupted firmly, standing his ground even though he was scared of getting beat into the ground of his beloved music store.

Frank knew that guys like Blake were tough, but if Frank could pose any threat towards him, he would be running away in a matter of seconds. Blake finally let go of Gerard’s hair, but with a little shove that sent Gerard staggering to the shelves, where he held on to keep himself from falling.

“Better fucking get home early tonight, Gerard,” Blake muttered. 

With that, he was out of the door, and out of sight. Gerard, who was leaning against the shelves for support, slid slowly to the ground. He held his knees up against his chest and rested his elbows atop them, bringing his hands up to his hair. His fingers scratched at his scalp furiously, especially the spot that Blake had just been pulling on.

Frank lost his bravery, it being chased out by a wave of awkwardness. He stood next to the slumped over Gerard and just looked down at him, trying to figure out what to say. It was silent for a few minutes, before Gerard was the one to break it.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard mumbled quietly. “Sorry he did that here. I’m glad there were no customers.”

“Uh,” Frank scratched at the back of his head, searching for a reply, “you don’t have to apologize. Was that your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, “I guess I gave you more reason to hate gay people, huh?”

“It’s gay people like that that I hate,” Frank shrugged, feeling even more uncomfortable now that the conversation seemed to be getting much too personal. “Anyways, look, I can’t have that guy back here again. If he’s gonna keep coming back for you, I can’t have you here.”

“Well aren’t you an amazing hero?” Gerard laughed lifelessly, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips, but without the slightest of smiles appearing on his face. “You save me then kick me out.”

“I’m not a hero,” Frank sighed. “I don’t want to see that shit happen to…here, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Gerard said. “He might come back, he might not. I never know with him.”

“Why not dump him?” Frank asked, curiosity getting the better of him. He was already berating himself for asking the question, but he couldn’t help it.

“He’s done a lot for me. I mean, I know he can be an asshole sometimes, but he’s done so much, the least I can do is deal with moments like these.”

Those words triggered something in Frank, causing him to lose his composed and nonchalant demeanor.

“What the fuck?" he scoffed. "That’s the stupidest fucking reason I’ve ever heard. Just because he’s done shit for you means he can treat you like that?! That’s a fucked up way of thinking and isn’t gonna do shit for you.”

Frank had even dropped down to one knee, kneeling in front of Gerard, wanting to make sure that every single word reached Gerard. Gerard was shocked at Frank’s passion, having never seen this much emotion from his employer. His eye brows were furrowed closely together and his lips were pressed into a thin, angry line. Gerard definitely wasn’t used to this side of Frank, and neither was Frank.

“S-So, what then?” Gerard was finally able to find his voice after staring at Frank for a while. “What do I do?”

And those words were exactly the kind of extinguisher to tame Frank's short moment of fiery passion. He couldn’t have such a heavy question being thrown at him. What Gerard should do about such a serious situation was not something Frank could tell him. It was too big of a deal, too crucial of an answer, and most importantly, much too personal and _involved_.

It almost seemed as though one could observe Frank slowly disconnect himself from the situation. First, it was his face, which softened back to its neutral expression. Then it was posture, as he backed away from Gerard, before finally just standing up. And finally, it was his completely disconnected and emotionless voice that spoke as he walked back to the register.

“I don’t know. Do what you want. But if he comes back and causes trouble again, I’ll have to fire you before the two weeks are over.”

Gerard was infuriated, and more than that, hurt. He hated sympathy, so he didn’t expect or want that at all, but it angered him how Frank was caring for a total of two seconds before completely shrinking the situation down to nothing. He watched as Frank walked away from him. He left him on the floor, not caring to ask if he was alright. Gerard wanted Frank to care a little more. He wanted Frank to be concerned, but he knew there was no hope in something like that. Frank was emotionless and uncaring and Gerard had to convince himself of that before his mind developed any expectations.

“Got it,” Gerard answered simply, lifelessly.

Frank’s eye brows twitched at the bitterness of Gerard’s voice, but his back was still towards Gerard, so Gerard couldn’t see that small twitch. Frank finally took a seat at his chair, but kept his eyes down, avoiding the sight of Gerard still on the floor.

He knew Gerard was angry. He may have been disconnected from people, but he wasn’t completely clueless. He could still tell when someone was angry with him. He knew he looked like a completely selfish asshole, and he had no problems with it either. For Frank, selfish meant safe. Selfish meant that he would be kept away from all problems. He wasn’t about to give that up for a stranger he’d known for two days.


	5. Chapter 4: Conflict Is Daunting

Gerard and Frank’s second day working together passed by slower than either of them could fathom. The tension and awkwardness that drenched the store was too thick to be cut even with a knife. Frank sat at the register, and Gerard sat at his chair. Frank busied himself with his iPod, and Gerard busied himself with his sketchbook. The two of them sat in one room, just feet apart, but their minds were in two completely different worlds.

After three o’clock, when the store filled with kids and teenagers who just got out of school, Frank was busy scanning purchases, while Gerard did his job of walking up and down the aisles, picking up misplaced items, and keeping an eye out for any thieves.

Once the swarm was over, Gerard was quick to clean up, reorganizing all the CD’s that had been picked up and placed in the wrong place. Gerard noticed that many of the CD’s in the local bands section had been sold. He smiled at the section that was now missing about one-third of its CD’s. He secretly hoped that his sign had something to do with that.

“Sold a lot of these,” Gerard said, turning to look at Frank, pointing at the shelves.

Frank was a bit taken back by Gerard speaking to him. Ever since Blake left, he had been completely silent, and Frank didn’t blame him either. He was a bit glad, thinking that maybe Gerard would begin to withdraw from him. But he should have known better.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “I think the sign helped.”

Frank knew that that last thing he said wasn’t necessary, and may or may not have been true, but he didn’t have the ability to lie to himself about feeling guilty for Gerard’s situation. Ever since Blake left, Gerard’s mood had changed and it was unfitting for him. So when Gerard’s famous face-wrinkling grin covered his face, there was a part of Frank that was glad he chose to say that.

“You think so?” Gerard giggled, glancing up at his sign.

“Possibly,” Frank shrugged.

Gerard, still smiling, made his way over to his chair and went back to sketching silently. No matter how much he tried to deny it, Frank’s spirits were lifted to see Gerard happy again. It wasn’t even a personal attachment that had Frank feeling guilty and wanting Gerard to be happy, it was the simple fact that Gerard loved someone who abused him and took the smile off his face. Frank wasn’t heartless enough to believe that anyone deserved that.

Once both men’s moods were improved, the rest of the day passed by a lot faster. Frank had told Gerard he didn’t have to stay until closing time, but Gerard insisted he would, and once Gerard insisted, there was no point in rebutting it.

“So,” Gerard said, as they both walked towards the door of the store, “it’s been two days, have I proved good enough to last two weeks?”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed, hating to admit that Gerard was a good employee. “You’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Gerard raised his eye brows. “I’m pretty sure I’m the best fucking employee ever.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Frank rolled his eyes, smiling slightly at Gerard’s arrogance.

“Oh my God!” Gerard gasped dramatically, jumping in front of Frank and blocking the door of the store, his arms spread wide.

“What?”

“You actually smiled!” Gerard exclaimed. “The only time I have seen you smile is when you go all ‘Frank the friendly cashier’ on customers.”

Frank wanted to suppress his smile now that Gerard was blatantly pointing it out, but he couldn’t help the second smile that hit his face at the term Gerard used. It really was like his friendly side only came out to customers, since they were complete strangers to him.

“I have the ability to smile,” Frank rolled his eyes again. “I just don’t waste it.”

“So, what you’re saying is I made you smile,” Gerard beamed.

This time Frank was very adamant in keeping his smile hidden. He didn’t like where this was going. He didn’t like the friendly tone that the conversation was taking.

“You said something stupid,” Frank nodded, “so I smiled. I smiled at your stupidity.”

“Good enough for me,” Gerard shrugged.

He moved away from the door and they both walked out, Frank locking the door behind him.

“Want a ride home?” Gerard offered, but Frank shook his head.

“Nah, I like walking,” Frank said.

“Ok, see you tomorrow,” Gerard smiled.

Frank nodded and walked off. He put his headphones in his ears and breathed in the chilly Jersey air, allowing it to fill his nostrils and then his lungs, feeling his entire body cool down as it ran through his chest. He always enjoyed his nightly walks home. The moon and the occasional stars that showed themselves were like an illusion of peace during the night even though many crimes were taking place in the darkest of corners. For the next two weeks, he would love this walk more than anything because it was his chance to be alone, and away from Gerard.

A couple more days passed with Frank employing Gerard. The days went by smoothly, minus the fact that Frank had fantasized over a thousand ways to permanently eliminate Gerard’s ability to talk.

It was uncanny how much Gerard could talk. At first, Frank hoped Gerard’s voice would give out, but he had gotten to the point where he was wondering how he didn’t just run out of things to say. The conversations—with Gerard asking all the questions—went the same way every day:

“What’s your favorite band?”

“Black Flag.”

“What about your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Pizza.”

“Why do you like music so much?”

“I don’t know, I just do.”

“Why are you so moody all the time?”

“Because of people who talk too much.”

“Smooth! Why do you not talk a lot?”

“Because it’s annoying.”

The pointless questions continued until a customer interrupted, or Frank found an excuse to shut Gerard up; neither of them was that often, but the latter proved to be more difficult.

It was on a particularly customer-free day that Gerard and his questions were relentless. Frank was sitting at the counter, having forgotten to charge his iPod the day before, so the battery was dead and he had no way to block out sound. Gerard had been at his chair, sketching away, but got bored of that so he began roaming the aisles, randomly picking up CD’s and putting them down.

“So, Frank,” Gerard began.

“God,” Frank groaned. “How do you not stop talking?”

“I’m bored,” Gerard whined. “So, anyways, how old are you?”

Frank thought about resisting and not answering Gerard’s questions, but that would be more annoying than giving him the answer because he would ask the same question over and over again until he got his answer.

“Twenty-six,” Frank answered.

“You live by yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I just do.”

Gerard paced around the store, pursing his lips, trying to think of anything to ask because he, unlike Frank, hated silence. It felt suffocating.

“You have any relatives?”

“None that I live with.”

“Girlfriend?”

“No.”

“You should.”

“That’s not a question,” Frank rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t know that was, like, a rule,” Gerard chuckled, tired of walking, so he settled for leaning against the counter, across from Frank. He rested his elbows against the surface of the counter and cradled his own chin in his hands. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Because I don’t want one,” Frank answered, sitting with his back completely against the chair so that Gerard was not in his personal space.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“Why do you always say that when you don’t want to actually answer? I just do or don’t.”

“You just answered your own question.”

“I did?”

“Yes, because I don’t want to answer.”

“Ah, so that means there’s more to it.”

“Stop trying to analyze. It’s annoying.”

“I thought me talking a lot was annoying.”

“It is, and so is that.”

“You get annoyed really easily.”

“And you could get fired really easily.”

“Damn,” Gerard sighed, “that was a good one.”

“It’s almost closing time,” Frank pointed out. “Thank God.”

“Oh, please, you pretend you're suffering but you totally enjoy my company,” Gerard laughed, pulling back from the counter and going to his chair to gather his things.

Frank just ignored his statement and was about to get ready to go when someone walked in through the door. A very tall and extremely skinny guy had walked in. He had straight, golden brown hair that was placed messily on his head. As he walked closer to the register, his glasses kept slipping down his nose and he would push them back up, blinking awkwardly as if his blinks were an uncontrolled spasm and not just a natural reflex.

“Hi,” the guy spoke, “I’m looking for—”

“Mikey!” Gerard yelled from over Frank’s shoulder. He ran up to the skinny guy and launched himself at him, practically knocking him over with the force of his hug. Mikey, as Gerard called him, stood there for a couple seconds, until the situation processed and he hugged Gerard back.

Frank stared at the way the two men hugged so intimately. Gerard just had his boyfriend over there a couple days ago, and he was angry. Gerard also left the store his boyfriend worked in for some reason. Then it clicked in Frank’s head. Gerard must have been having an affair. It didn’t seem like something Gerard would do, but then again, Frank had only known the hyperactive man for a few days.

Gerard pulled away from Mikey and turned to face Frank.

“Frank, this is Mikey, my brother,” Gerard explained and Frank suddenly felt like an idiot for his wild theories that he actually had no business making. “Mikey, this is Frank, my boss.”

Frank would have rather had Mikey be Gerard’s second boyfriend because if hyperactivity ran in the family, he didn’t want to experience having a second Gerard around.

Mikey allowed just a small smile to adorn his face, along with an awkward wave.

Frank waited for him to talk, to begin to talk and never stop, but he didn’t. There was no way that he was related to Gerard.

“Let me get my stuff and we can go out,” Gerard said, smiling at his brother, and going back to his chair, stuffing all his things into his messenger bag.

“The Smiths,” Mikey noted calmly, pointing at Frank’s shirt. “Nice, dude.”

Frank had to stupidly look down at his shirt to understand what Mikey was talking about, somehow forgetting he was wearing a Smiths shirt.

“Oh,” Frank nodded, looking back up at Mikey, “thanks. You’re a fan?”

“Hell yeah,” Mikey nodded, but even with the enthusiasm in his statement, he maintained a monotone voice, that wasn’t exactly dulling, just relaxing.

Frank wished Mikey had been the one to walk into his store begging for a job, because having to sit with him for two weeks would have been bearable compared to Gerard. Mikey seemed to appreciate silence much more, or at least know how to act around strangers. That was something Gerard clearly lacked.

“I’ll go wait in your car, ‘kay?” Mikey asked.

“Oh, alright,” Gerard nodded, digging into his pocket and tossing his keys to his brother.

Mikey barely caught the keys, almost dropping them, but reaching with the other hand to catch them before they fell to the ground. He smiled at his accomplishment, stood up straight, and waved at Frank.

“Nice meeting you, Frank,” he said.

“You, too,” Frank agreed, actually somewhat genuine.

Mikey walked out and Frank finished gathering his things, as did Gerard, then they made their way down the aisle of CD’s.

“Your brother seems cool,” Frank noted.

“He is,” Gerard nodded in agreement. “I’m glad you like him. You guys would get along; you have similar taste in music.”

“And he’s not like you,” Frank shrugged.

“Hm, that actually must be his only downfall.”

“Yeah, right,” Frank rolled his eyes. “You guys seem really different; it’s hard to tell you’re related.”

“I know, but we have pretty much the same taste in stuff, like we agree on everything, and the same personalities.”

“Personalities? Doesn’t seem like it. He’s way quieter.”

“That doesn’t have much to do with his personality,” Gerard said, leaning against one of the shelves as Frank walked up and down each aisle, his routine before closing time, making sure nothing looked out of place.

“I think it does,” Frank shrugged. “If you were more like that, I think it would be easier to deal with you.”

“If I were more like Mikey?” Gerard asked, suddenly standing up straight.

Frank nodded, not paying attention to whether or not Gerard could see him as he bent over to adjust a CD on a lower shelf.

“He’s not perfect,” Gerard said, a defensive tone replacing his usual playful one. “You’ve only known him for, like, two seconds. You can’t just assume he’s perfect.”

“Well, he’s quiet,” Frank sighed, standing back up. “I like that.”

“I’m not a bad person,” Gerard mumbled, crossing his arms. “Just because you don’t like me, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person.”

“Uh, I never said you are?” Frank scratched the back of his neck, confused. He stood in the aisle adjacent to the one Gerard was in, their eyes barely meeting over the top of the shelf because of Frank’s height.

“You’re implying it,” Gerard continued his argument. “By saying I should be like Mikey, you’re basically saying I’m a bad person and he’s a good person.”

“No,” Frank shrugged, obviously not detecting the seriousness in Gerard’s voice. “I just said he’s quiet, you’re not.”

“That’s not what you said!” Gerard exclaimed, taking Frank by surprise.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Gerard,” Frank spoke calmly, unsure of why Gerard was reacting the way he was to his words.

“It is to me,” Gerard muttered. “Whatever. Mikey, the amazing and perfect Mikey, is waiting for me. So I’m leaving.”

Before Frank could say anything, not that he was planning to, Gerard stormed out of the store, sure to slam the door loudly behind him. Frank flinched at the sound, staring at the door as if it were going to give him answers.

He knew that telling Gerard to be more like Mikey was what upset him, that much was obvious. What Frank didn’t understand was why it upset him to that level. Though he had only known Gerard for a short while, he could already tell that Gerard wasn’t the type to get angry about the smallest of situations.

Frank hated conflict, which was another reason he hated interacting with people. Having to argue with people was physically, emotionally, and mentally daunting. It took so much out of a person and conflict in itself was enough of a reason for Frank to avoid people completely. Yet, there he was, conflict staring him right in the face and asking him what he was going to do about it. Frank already knew. He would do what he did best. He would ignore it completely.


	6. Chapter 5: Dangers Of Caring

Ever since Gerard’s sporadic emotional episode, things had been more awkward than Frank and Gerard thought possible. Gerard was extremely silent, which was completely unusual to Frank. He still did his job, but didn’t bother Frank with his pointless questions. He didn’t bother Frank with his voice at all. Two days of awkward silence, and Frank hated to admit it to himself, but it felt strange.

Frank loved silence, and that hadn’t changed, but from the moment he had gotten to know Gerard, Gerard and silence were not associated. Now that they suddenly were, Frank was slightly bothered by it. He wasn’t, however, bothered enough to say anything about it. Though he was curious, there was an internal gratitude Frank felt, knowing that Gerard was now just as introverted as he was, so there was no possibility of a friendship developing. As far as Frank saw it, they now had the chance to have nothing but an employer-employee relationship.

The two days of silence finally passed and on what Frank thought would be the third day of bittersweet silence, he arrived to work without Gerard there. This surprised him. Gerard was always early, waiting outside the store with a coffee in hand. Frank had to start his morning like he had been before Gerard, silently and alone. He opened the door of the store, making his way over to his place behind the register. Just seconds after he got comfortable, the door flew open and Gerard walked in.

He had a beany on his messy, greasy hair, making the dark locks perfectly frame his pale face. His eyes were bloodshot, carried by dark bags of skin clearly from lack of sleep. His every movement was trudgy compared to the upbeat step with which he usually carried himself.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled, his voice barely reaching Frank.

“Uh, it’s fine,” Frank replied, scratching the back of his neck, debating whether or not he should say something about Gerard’s condition. He thought it would seem like he cared too much, but then he also figured he was his boss and had to be aware of his employee’s condition. “You, uh, look horrible.”

“Yup,” Gerard nodded, taking his seat in front of the lounge. Frank noticed that he hadn’t even brought his messenger bag with him. “Fuck,” Gerard muttered, bringing a hand up to his head, “headache.”

“You getting sick?” Frank asked.

“No,” Gerard sighed, still holding his head with one hand. He shut his eyes and took deep breaths. “Hangover.”

“You came to work hungover?” Frank scoffed. “Really?”

“Yeah, so?” Gerard sighed, finally opening his eyes. He looked towards Frank, who was staring at him from his chair. “I can still work.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, pulling his eyes away from the wrecked man before him. Even with a hangover, he knew Gerard would win in an argument, so he decided to drop it.

There wasn’t much work to do, so the two of them spent most of the day sitting in their usual spots, completely ignoring the other’s existence. Frank then remembered that he had some new vinyl records that he needed to organize.

“There’s a box of vinyl in the back,” Frank said, breaking the dead air. “Could you add them to the rest of the collection?”

“Sure,” Gerard sighed, heaving himself off the chair like it was the most daunting task he had ever been faced with. Once that was done, he made his way into the lounge and emerged with the box of vinyl records. He dragged his feet with each step, his half-lidded eyes void of all emotion as he passed by Frank. He disappeared into one of the aisles, getting straight to the task.

Frank listened for the sound of the box opening, but instead heard a loud thud, a muttered, “Fuck,” from Gerard, and one of the shelves shaking violently, all at the same time. Frank ran around the counter to see what had happened and saw that Gerard had somehow managed to trip, drop the box full of vinyl onto the floor, and pull some of the ones on the shelf down with him. Frank would not have been concerned except that some of them were used and didn’t have packaging so a few of the records had landed on the floor, miraculously not cracking.

“Fuck, Gerard!” Frank yelled, quickly stepping over Gerard, who was sitting on his knees, so that he could pick up the records that had fallen out.

Gerard, with Frank nearing him so suddenly, quickly jumped back, his back hitting the wall as he used his arm to shield himself. He cowered away and Frank just stared at him, wondering why he got so scared. Did he actually think Frank would hurt him?

Frank was kneeling on the floor and he turned to look at Gerard, who was still shielding himself from Frank.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whimpered, Frank barely able to hear him.

“It’s…no big deal?” Frank said, staring down at the frightened man next to him. “Why are you so scared? It’s not like I can do anything to you.”

Gerard slowly uncoiled himself from the protective ball he’d curled himself into. His wary eyes lingered on Frank, like he was still waiting for him to hurt him somehow. He let out a long sigh and slid his beany off his head so he could run his hands through his messy hair, his fingers getting caught in a few knots along the way.

“Just, uh, help me pick these up,” Frank said and Gerard nodded, leaning over towards Frank to carefully pick up the bare records.

As Gerard crawled over to Frank, his disheveled hair finally away from his face, Frank noticed a red mark, almost dark enough to be a bruise, on the side of his face, just past his ear and running down his jaw. Frank opened his mouth to ask what it was, but then quickly held himself back and kept his mouth shut. It was none of his business. _Employer-employee._

They picked up the records, still on their hands and knees, replacing each one into its original packing. The bell above the door rang as a customer entered and Frank quickly stood up.

“Put them back on the shelf,” Frank said and Gerard nodded.

He made his way over to the register and smiled at the customer who was already browsing the aisles of CD’s.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything,” Frank said.

“Do you guys carry vinyl?”

“Yeah, actually,” Frank nodded, walking back around the register and the man followed him. “We’re reshelving, but feel free to look around.”

Gerard was standing, a stack of vinyl in his hand as he carefully put them back in their place. He glanced up at Frank and the customer, and stepped aside slightly to give the man room to look around.

“Let him know if you’re looking for anything specific,” Frank said to the man, and gesturing towards Gerard.

Frank made his way back to the register and sat at his chair, keeping an ear on Gerard and the customer. In his hungover state, Gerard was capable of doing stupid things. Luckily, Frank didn’t hear any sort of interaction and seconds later, the man emerged from the aisle, a couple used vinyl records in hand.

Frank rung up his purchase and recited the, “Come back soon,” speech, with smile and all. The man made his way out and Frank walked back to Gerard to see how he was doing. He had finished reorganizing the vinyl and was just adjusting them to make them look neat.

“Sorry,” Gerard said, not looking up at Frank as he straightened the vinyl. “Getting drunk last night was probably stupid.”

“Yeah, probably,” Frank nodded, blatantly staring at Gerard since he wasn’t watching him to notice. He looked like he would fall over at any moment. “You know if you’re not feeling well, you can take the day off.”

“I’m only working two weeks,” Gerard said drearily, “I can’t do a day off.”

“It’s fine, seriously,” Frank insisted. “You can’t do shit when you’re like this. I’ll just add a day to the two weeks or whatever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Gerard backed away from the shelf, taking one last look at it, before bending over and getting his beany off the floor. He put it back on his head, adjusting his hair once more so that it covered the mark Frank had noticed earlier. Frank kept his lips in a tightly shut line so that he didn’t ask Gerard anything about it.

“Thanks,” Gerard sighed. “I, uh, sorry again. I promise I won’t get drunk like that again.”

“Yeah, ok, yeah, it’s cool,” Frank driveled stupidly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Gerard nodded, putting his hand up in an awkward half-wave, his pinky sticking out further than the rest of his fingers, looking completely displaced, much like Gerard did that day entirely.

“Yeah, ok,” Frank nodded, waving as well, then attaching his hand to the back of his neck, scratching at it as Gerard walked out of the store.

Frank had so many questions, but didn’t dare ask a single one for fear of starting a connection that he wanted to keep far away. He made his way back to his chair behind the register, glancing at Gerard’s chair and then at the entire store in all its emptiness. As much as he hated to admit it, he had already gotten used to having someone in the store at all times, even if it was the ever-pestering Gerard.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he dropped his head to the counter, pressing his forehead against the cool surface. _Why was he even that hungover? Why was he so scared all of a sudden? What was that mark on his face? Why had he been so quiet the past couple of days?_ Frank had to stop caring. He abhorred the fact that he had so many concerns about something that had nothing to do with him.

Even while reprimanding himself, he found his thoughts wandering, subconsciously finding answers to his regretted questions. That mark on his face could have been from a drunken accident, but it also could have been from his boyfriend. He was obviously abusive and Frank had seen his abuse firsthand. Somehow, out of all the questions, that one was the most obtrusive in Frank’s mind. He didn’t dare allow himself to wonder why. Caring was dangerous and he had to force himself to move away from the useless and hazardous emotion.


	7. Chapter 6: Barriers Come Down

The next day soon approached and Frank had caught himself thinking and wondering about Gerard’s condition much too often than he should have been. If someone told Frank that he was walking at an unusually brisk pace to work, he would have denied it with every inch of his heart. If someone told Frank, that the look of confusion and worry on his face when he found that Gerard was not waiting outside the store could be spotted by anyone within a mile radius of him, he would have used what was left of his heart to deny that as well.

With denial radiating throughout his mind, Frank opened the store and took no time at all to situate himself behind the register, where he always did. He looked towards Gerard’s chair, still set up for him, and sighed.

Gerard was never late and the only reason he was late the previous day was because of his hangover. And the only reason he had a hangover was because something had obviously happened with his boyfriend, because that was the only proper reason for the mark that was on his face. That must have also explained why he was so scared of Frank. The way Frank yelled at him probably reminded him of something his boyfriend would do and triggered an automatic reflex. Frank had basically mapped it out the night before, excusing his mind’s late night drabble as a tired version of counting sheep to help him sleep…even though it didn’t help him sleep at all. It kept him up the whole night.

Frank quickly plugged his hears with his headphones, pressing play so that his iPod chose a random song. The first song that played was “I’m Dying Tomorrow” by Alkaline Trio and that was by far the one song he found easiest to lose himself into. Whenever he heard the song, no matter what, he could easily close his eyes and get lost in the music. This was the first time it actually failed. Where music usually worked to calm his thoughts, he found that every lyric lead his mind back to Gerard. Whether or not the lyrics actually worked to be about Gerard, Frank’s mind found a way to make them about him. The title itself gave Frank an ominous feeling about why Gerard wasn’t at work yet, even after the song had already repeated itself well over ten times.

He gave up on using music as a crutch and snatched the headphones out of his ears like they had been contaminated. He didn’t even bother to press pause; he just wrapped the headphones around the iPod and shoved it in his pocket, ignoring the song that would forever make him think of Gerard now blaring in his jeans pocket.

For about another ten minutes, he sat there, drumming his fingers restlessly against the counter, before deciding to do some work to get his mind off things. He went into the lounge, ignoring Gerard’s empty chair as he walked past it. He grabbed a roll of paper towel and some product that was used to clean glass surfaces. He went back out and began cleaning the front of the counter that was made of glass, displaying random band merchandise, such as key chains, guitar picks, stickers, and other trinkets.

He sprayed the product onto the glass and wiped it down, starting a steady rhythm of clockwise and counterclockwise, allowing his mind to focus on the small crevice between the medal frame that held the glass up and the glass itself. The glass cleaning product seemed to run down and build up in that small opening, so Frank bit his tongue as he got on his knees and focused on getting the paper towel into the small opening to get the cleaning product out. This seemed to be a much better distraction than music, because he was so focused on the task at hand that he did not hear the bell ring above the door of the store. He only saw a rough reflection of a figure coming near him through the newly-cleaned glass.

Just as Frank was about to turn and face who he thought was a customer, he heard that nasally voice that had become all too familiar to him. “Morning, sorry I’m late.”

Frank practically jumped up from his spot on the floor, spinning around to face Gerard, his eyes wide when he saw the man and all his theories about what had happened to him were ceased when he saw that he was perfectly ok. His eyes were not blood shot like the day before; he didn’t look sick; his hair was exposed in its naturally messy nature; a few strands were still obviously brought down to the side of his face to cover the mark, but Frank ignored that part; he was just relieved to actually see Gerard in one piece. He tried not to make his previous worry and his now relief too obvious.

“You’re, uh, I mean it’s ok,” Frank said.

Gerard smiled his usual full-face grin, and walked over to leave his messenger back on his chair. He then went back to Frank.

“Oh, here, I can do that,” Gerard said, taking the cleaning product and paper towel out of Frank’s hand.

“I was actually done,” Frank shrugged. “Thanks, though.”

“Oh, ok,” Gerard nodded. “Sorry, again. Is there anything else you need me to do?”

“No,” Frank answered, suddenly aware of how little there was to do in the store. Every possibility of him justifying his worries with needing Gerard to do work was eliminated. “Not that I can think of, no.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, completely unaware of the war he had waged within Frank’s mind. Gerard took the paper towels and cleaning product back into the lounge.

Frank took this quick moment alone to try and gather himself. He sucked in a deep breath and ran both hands through his hair, all the way back to his neck, where he scratched furiously. He shut his eyes for just a second and then breathed out. Gerard came back out just as Frank was seating himself behind the register.

“Get over your hangover pretty well?” Frank asked, managing to sound completely casual as Gerard took his usual seat.

“Yeah,” Gerard chuckled lightly. “Sorry again about showing up to work like that.”

“It’s cool,” Frank shrugged.

“So you meant it about giving me another day since I missed yesterday?” Gerard asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged again, “if you want.”

“Yeah, definitely sounds good,” Gerard nodded. “I have Mikey looking around for me, trying to find a job.”

“That’s cool,” Frank nodded, locking his eyes on his tattooed fingers, finding himself more interested than ever before on the word “Halloween” tattooed across fingers, near his knuckles and the word “Bookworm” that was spelled out when his fingers were intertwined together. “You’re not going back to the comic store?”

Frank decided to look up as he asked, feeling like his façade was strong enough, and also wanting to catch Gerard’s reaction.

It was like a sudden play of emotions on Gerard’s face. He looked down at his lap, his mouth dropping into a deep grimace, then he quickly blinked it all way, and looked up, a small casual smile on his face.

“Nah,” he shrugged. “Things are weird now, ya know?”

Frank nodded, being completely out of place, and wanting desperately to ask one last question, but he couldn’t manage to get it out of his throat, so he settled for a mumbled, “Yeah I see how it could be.”

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, feeling confused as to why Frank was the one initiating conversation. It had been days of Gerard practically prying a voice out of his employer by asking as many questions as he could come up with. Now, he was actually left speechless as Frank was asking about him.

“Uh,” Frank broke the silence again, and surprising Gerard yet again. “So, your boyfri—uh, Blake, are you guys still together then?”

Gerard was completely taken aback by that question, actually resting completely back into his chair, staring ahead of him blankly for a little before looking up at Frank, who looked uncomfortable, his eyes locked on the counter.

Gerard was about to answer, but the door to the store opened and he shut his mouth and stared ahead.

“FRANKIE BOY!” a loud voice boomed into the store, along with a broad shouldered but short man. He looked like he was probably shorter than Frank, which said a lot, but his hair, brushed up straight, gave him a little extra height.

“Hey, Hambone,” Frank said casually, his low tone of speaking seeming dramatically monotone compared to the way Hambone greeted him.

“Where have you been, Frankie?!” he asked, walking around the counter and taking Frank into a tight hug that Frank didn’t return. He just stood there and waited until it was over.

“Working, like always,” Frank shrugged, once Hambone let him go.

“You’re so anal it’s ridiculous,” Hambone laughed, walking back around the register and standing across Frank. “You need to get out, how many times do I tell you that?”

“Every chance you get every time you see me,” Frank rolled his eyes, not really hating Hambone, but knowing that Hambone could actually deal with Frank’s dry attitude.

“Which makes it completely true,” Hambone nodded, suddenly noticing the other presence in the room. “Oh, shit, you got company?”

“Temporary employee,” Frank answered. Gerard smiled, waving awkwardly from his chair at Hambone. “This is Gerard. Gerard, this is Hambone, my tattoo artist.”

“And only friend,” Hambone added. “Nice to meet you, Gerard! How long you been working here?”

“I think it’s been a week now,” Gerard answered, after thinking it over for a second. Frank actually raised his eye brows in surprise. Even though he usually complained of the days going torturously slow, it seemed as though they’d actually flown by pretty quickly.

“A whole week of putting up with this guy?” Hambone asked, pointing with his thumb to Frank. “He’s a riot, isn’t he? All stuffy and shit. I know he’s a softy, though.” Hambone poked Frank in the chest and Frank flinched away, swatting Hambone's hand.

“Yeah,” Gerard laughed softly, “yeah he can be, a little of both.”

Frank couldn’t help but stare at Gerard while he talked to Hambone. Gerard wasn’t usually this quiet and reserved. The moment he met him, Gerard was upbeat and talkative and would be able strike up hour-long conversations with any stranger he met, using that hyperactive attitude with customers. This, however, quiet and subtle Gerard, was not him at all. Frank pulled his eyes away from Gerard when Hambone started to speak again.

“Well, hey, I just wanted to ask you if I could bring by some flyers sometime and advertise for our next gig in town,” Hambone said, now looking at Frank again.

“You guys doing gigs again?” Frank asked.

“Yup,” Hambone nodded proudly. “We already did a few around Jersey and if you would come visit your pal Hambone you would have known. But, yeah, we have one here before we get back on that van.”

“Yeah, bring some by,” Frank nodded. “Bring any merch, too, I can help sell it.”

“Fuck yeah, this is why I love ya, Frankie!” Hambone had a huge smile on his face. “I’ll bring everything by in a day or two.”

“Alright, cool,” Frank nodded.

“When are you gonna get your next ink done? Your skin’s looking bare, man,” Hambone joked.

“Haven’t gotten any new ideas,” Frank shrugged.

“As long as you’re not cheating on me with another tattoo artist,” Hambone said, poking his shoulder.

“Nah, no one can tattoo like you,” Frank shrugged. “That’s why I put up with your attitude.”

“Ha! You put up with _me_? Oh, that’s hilarious,” Hambone wiped away a fake tear as if he’d been laughing too hard. “Have fun with this kid, Gerard.”

Gerard just sort of chuckled at that and nodded.

“Get outta here, Hambone,” Frank rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile.

“See ya, guys!” Hambone waved at them both and headed back out.

“Interesting guy,” Gerard mused.

“Annoying, really,” Frank shrugged, “but he’s pretty funny, I can’t lie.”

Gerard nodded, opting to hum in agreement rather than say any words.

Frank wanted to start up the conversation that Hambone had interrupted, but didn’t know how to without just coming off as completely strange. Gerard, himself, was already acting completely different. Frank didn’t want to start changing as well. He had already allowed himself enough leeway earlier, asking questions that had obviously gone past the employer-employee relationship he wanted to maintain. The silence, though, was just itching at him. Gerard never allowed silence; Frank couldn’t understand why he suddenly had been lately.

Frank kept himself quiet, for the first time in years, having to actually force himself not to talk.

The rest of the day passed by rather quickly. The two men engaged in short-lived conversations, the kind of conversations Frank despised more than anything. They joined in small talk: the casual exchange of completely pointless words that did not do anything to benefit either man. Frank couldn’t blame Gerard for it entirely, though, because he found himself initiating the pointless words a few times.

Frank sighed, relieved, when a loud group of teenagers walked into the store not too long before closing time, saving Frank because he was about to note that it was probably cold outside. 

The group of teenagers, consisting of two boys and two girls were loudly talking around the local bands section, discussing some of the bands there. Frank couldn’t help but be pleased by younger customers actually looking at the music and not the stupid magazines.

The teenagers, each holding a CD, started walking towards the cash register. Just as they neared Frank, he heard Gerard mutter, “Shit.” Frank glanced at Gerard and saw him staring, wide-eyed at the door of the store. Frank followed his gaze and saw Blake standing just outside the door, getting ready to walk in. So many things happened at once. Frank quickly looked back at Gerard, panic in both men’s eyes. Gerard, however, misunderstood the panic in Frank’s eyes. Thinking that Frank was worried about Blake causing a disturbance, Gerard mumbled, “I’ll handle it,” before jumping out of his chair and running towards the door before Blake could get in. Frank was close to chasing after him and telling him that he was actually panicking because he knew Blake would hurt him, but the customers were already at the register, completely oblivious to the foreign feeling of worry that was churning in Frank’s stomach. He shook it away and forced a smile, keeping his composure and keeping his attention away from the door of the store.

He rang up their purchases, not even paying attention to what bands they had chosen, and not even bothering to deliver his redundant speech. The teenagers walked out of the store and Frank looked towards the door of the store and the windows, not seeing anyone else outside. He looked at Gerard’s chair and saw that he had left his messenger bag behind. Frank sighed and looked to the door again, still not seeing any bodies visible. It was already almost time to close, but Frank sat back and waited patiently.

One minute passed.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Frank had waited close to half an hour, doing nothing but staring at the door as if his menacing glare would be enough to make Gerard walk back through it, but nothing happened.

Frank gave in and got ready to leave. He stepped out from behind the counter, deciding to take Gerard’s bag with him, slinging it across his body much like Gerard did, and then closing the shop without even examining the aisles like he usually did.

He locked the door behind him and then faced the street, taking a deep breath of the cold night air—cold, just as he expected, just as it was every night. He looked down at the messenger bag resting on his side and then ran his hands through his hair, grabbing it about halfway through, and then just letting it go, having it drop messily against his face.

As he turned towards his direction home, his path barely lit by the moon and the few stars, he spotted a dark figure curled up just a few feet ahead, resting on the floor against the wall of some building. Frank, at first, thought it was just a homeless person; he often found them lingering around this area late at night.

As he continued walking, he took a quick glance at the body when he walked past it and froze completely when he saw a pale face he easily recognized, littered not only with the shadow of the night, but with fresh bruises and trickles of blood.

All the blood in Frank’s body seemed to stop flowing as he dropped down to his knees next to Gerard and pulled the limp body into his arms, shaking him, waiting for his eyes to snap open. Any barriers that Frank had previously had held up, quickly came crashing down, replaced by blocks of concern and care and he did nothing to fight it off as he continuously shook Gerard’s body, wanting more than anything to see that annoying yet persistent grin replace the scabbing scars on his face.


	8. Chapter 7: Vulnerable and Exposed

“Gerard, fuck, Gerard, wake up,” Frank begged, his voice hoarse with shock. He was shaking Gerard violently by the shoulders and he saw Gerard’s eyes twitch slightly.

“Hmm, Frank?”

Gerard’s eyes finally fluttered open, one of them a bit swollen, but still able to open nonetheless.

“Thank God,” Frank sighed. “What the fuck happened?”

“A lot,” was all Gerard said, now avoiding Frank’s gaze, but still allowing the upper half of his body to rest in Frank’s lap, his head comfortably in the crook of Frank’s elbow.

“Obviously,” Frank mumbled, not too fond of the vague answer, knowing, however, that vague answers were exactly what he gave everyone. “Do you need, like, a hospital?”

“Oh, no, no,” Gerard quickly answered, able to sit up and off of Frank’s lap. He brought one knee up and rested his elbow there, staring ahead at the dark street. “I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Frank scoffed. “You were knocked the fuck out on a sidewalk.”

“I was conscious,” Gerard argued.

“You were not,” Frank argued back.

“I was,” Gerard insisted. “I was just kind of hoping I wasn’t, but...I was.”

The two sat there silently for a while, both completely unaware of the right thing to say to properly break the silence that had lasted uncomfortably long.

Frank debated what he was about to say next, but found himself unwilling to say anything else. He shut his eyes, like it pained him to speak.

“Where are your car keys?” he asked Gerard.

“Huh?” Gerard asked, before promptly answering, “They’re in my bag, why?”

“You live with your boyfriend, right?”

Gerard frowned, not having realized until that moment that he didn’t have anywhere to go because he did in fact live with Blake and he wasn’t about to go there after what had just happened.

“Y-yeah,” Gerard sighed.

“Then you can, uh, I guess, stay,” Frank began, looking to his right at nothing in particular, simply needing to keep his gaze off of Gerard, “with me, I guess, you know, so you don’t have to go there, or whatever. Tonight, I mean, for tonight cause you’re in shit shape.”

Gerard looked up at Frank, who was still avoiding his gaze. Gerard was shocked to say the least at Frank’s unusually kind gesture and his struggle to form a simple sentence. He had basically convinced himself that Frank was heartless, but there he was extending a hospitable invitation.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, finally turning his head back to face Gerard. “You annoy me and all, but fuck, I can’t just leave you all beat up on the street.”

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled slightly, his mouth mostly just twitching at one side because any stretch of the skin on his face resulted in an increase of stinging and throbbing. “Uh, I need help, I think.”

Frank bent over and extended both his arms out to Gerard. Gerard gladly took a tight hold of them both as he hoisted himself up into a standing position. His entire body felt weak, so he stumbled slightly, staggering against Frank’s hold. Frank noticed that Gerard was not stable enough to stand himself up, so he swiftly took one of Gerard’s arms and wrapped it around his own shoulder, allowing Gerard to lean his body weight against his.

“You don’t have to,” Gerard said, trying to resist leaning against Frank.

“You’re heavy,” Frank simply stated, “so just walk fast instead of talking.”

Gerard could have smiled again at Frank’s unusual mixture of being nice and irritated at the same time; it seemed fitting, however, but only for Frank.

“My car is down the street,” Gerard said, nodding his head to signal that they needed to walk forward. Frank began walking, steadily enough so that Gerard could keep up, his slight limp slowing him down. It wasn’t too far of a walk before Gerard stopped them at his car. Frank used one hand to reach into Gerard’s messenger bag, digging around in the mess of papers before meeting with the pieces of metal. He pulled out the keys and unlocked the car, carefully helping Gerard into the passenger’s seat. He shut the door and then got into the driver's side to start the car.

The drive to Frank’s house was completely silent, but neither of them complained. Silence, at that moment specifically, was needed. When they arrived at Frank’s house, he got out of the car and helped Gerard out, carefully guiding him up the stairs of his apartment complex until he reached the door to his place. Gerard’s face scrunched up and a slight whimper escaped his throat with each step that he climbed. They finally reached the door and Frank hurried them inside so that Gerard could rest comfortably on the couch.

Gerard’s weight practically gave out beneath him when he saw the sofa. He ignored the pain of allowing his body to fall like that because it all felt just so much better than having to be standing.

Frank flicked on the dim lamp of the living room and walked into the kitchen, only having one ice pack. He took it out to Gerard.

“Here,” Frank said, handing Gerard the ice pack, “use this while I get some more ice.”

“Thanks,” Gerard nodded, taking the ice pack and placing it on his left eye first, wanting to subdue the swelling before it got any worse.

Frank took out a few Ziploc bags and filled them each with ice then wrapped them up in a paper towel, creating makeshift ice packs that he thought would do the same job well enough. He carried those out to Gerard, who was staring blankly in front of him.

“You didn’t have to,” Gerard said when he noticed Frank’s handmade ice packs.

“It’s cool,” Frank shrugged. “Um, where is it..uh…where do you need them?”

Gerard cringed, focusing on the swelling areas of pain that he could feel randomly scattered on his body.

“A lot of places,” he sighed.

“It’ll be easier to lay down,” Frank noted and Gerard complied, shifting on the sofa so that he was laying on his back.

Gerard lifted his shirt from beneath his jacket, revealing his pale skin but also revealing a red mark on his abdomen that made Frank cringe. It would definitely be bruising. It wasn’t alone either; it just happened to be the biggest and most striking. Many red marks, some that actually seemed a bit older, littered his otherwise smooth flesh. Gerard put his hand out to Frank, and Frank handed him an ice pack, pulling his eyes away from Gerard’s tattered body. Gerard placed the ice pack on his stomach, and shuddered from the cold, and also hissed from the pain, but left the ice there, bearing through it.

Gerard sighed and put his hand out for another ice pack; Frank handed it to him. This time Gerard put it on the right side of his face, right above his temple.

“Fuck,” he hissed as he applied some pressure. He inhaled and exhaled loudly, and then turned his face to the side so that the ice pack could sit there without him holding it. He was now facing Frank, who was keeping a strong face as he watched Gerard’s face contort with pain.

“I think that’s it,” Gerard sighed, “the rest are small. These are the bad ones.”

“You sure?”

Gerard nodded. Frank stood up and went back into the kitchen, putting the ice packs in the freezer in case Gerard would need them later. He remembered seeing some cuts on his face, so he took a soft towel and dampened one end with hot water, then went back out to Gerard, who once again, was staring off at nothing in particular.

Frank got down on his knees in front of the sofa. Gerard looked at him questioningly, but Frank didn’t say anything. He moved the ice pack that was on Gerard’s temple and also moved Gerard’s hand that was holding the other ice pack to his eye. He then brought the wet end of the towel to Gerard’s face and gently scrubbed at the dry blood. Gerard held his breath the entire time, bracing himself for pain but found that Frank was being so careful that he didn’t feel anything at all.

Frank was glad to see that there weren’t many cuts. There was one on his cheek, one on his chin accompanied by a scrape that was most likely from the cement of the sidewalk, and one larger cut on his forehead, where most of the blood came from. Once Gerard’s face was clean of blood, Frank stood up and mumbled, “Wait here,” before heading off to the bathroom. He got a bottle of alcohol and some bandages from the medicine cabinet and went back out to Gerard.

Frank used the dry end of the towel to dab slightly with alcohol and then rub over the cuts on Gerard’s face. Gerard sucked his breath in through his clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, which hurt his swollen eye even more. Frank didn’t say anything. He simply focused on the task at hand, making sure he cleaned the cuts and around them. When they looked clean enough to him, he carefully placed a bandage on each one. He also gave both ice packs back to Gerard, who put them back in their place.

“Thank you,” Gerard whispered, his eyes shut.

“It’s whatever,” Frank shrugged, trying to shut off his emotions entirely. He was just helping a wounded guy. It meant absolutely nothing to him. That’s what he kept telling himself and that’s what was keeping him so quiet. He had to shut himself off before he allowed the cares-too-much-Frank to make an appearance. “Do you want to, uh, sleep here? Or my room and I can sleep here…”

“No, here is fine,” Gerard sighed, his eyes still shut. “Even if I wanted to move, there’s no way I’m going to.”

“Ok, I’ll go get a blanket and pillow,” Frank nodded, standing up and going into his room. He only had one blanket, but he pulled it off his bed, took one of his pillows, and went back out to Gerard. Gerard’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and heavy so Frank assumed he was sleeping. He threw the blanket over his body and then moved to fix the pillow under his head, but when he got closer, he saw tears running down Gerard’s cheeks, dripping down onto the sofa cushion. Frank didn’t know what to say, so he just sat on the coffee table and stared as the tears continued to overflow Gerard’s closed eye lids. He’d given up on holding the ice pack to his eyes, so it just lay in his open palm near his face.

When Gerard’s eyes opened, Frank swallowed nervously, meeting Gerard’s bloodshot gaze, having no defense as to why he was staring. Gerard’s hazel eyes stood out against the backdrop of red that had been intensified after his crying.

“I didn’t want to…to cry,” Gerard said, his voice a hushed whisper. “I’m not that fucking weak. I mean who cries about getting beat by their boyfriend, right? It’s pathetic.”

“What? No,” Frank spoke after a few seconds of silence, finding his voice. “I mean, I don’t think that’s pathetic. That’s a pretty good fucking reason to cry.”

“He used to be so loving,” Gerard sighed, his voice completely cracked and broken. He was no longer staring at Frank, but right past him, at the air as his mind drifted back into distant memories. “I can’t even explain to you how great of a guy he was. He was that type that if you saw him, you’d think wow anyone who is with him is lucky. He gave his _all_ to me. And I mean I’m a lot to put up with, ya know? Obviously, you know that. But he just loved it.”

Gerard paused, shutting his eyes as the happy past made his heart rampage against his chest, yearning more than anything to go back to that time. Frank simply waited silently for Gerard to continue his story.

“He did so much for me,” Gerard continued. “As friends, he gave me a place to stay, helped me find a job, would just bend over backwards to make sure I was good. It became more than that. It was like we always knew we would be together, but just never actually went for it. Then we did and he got, like, really possessive. I mean I had lived with the guy, so you’d think I know all about him, but I didn’t. He was totally different. He was always mad, always putting me down, like I could just never do right by him. Like he had done everything to make me happy, but I couldn’t do the same for him. He made me happy but I couldn’t do that for him. He made me feel worthless. It started like that, with just words, but obviously he’s well past that. I—”

“Why didn’t you just end it when it all started?” Frank interrupted.

“I don’t know,” Gerard sighed. “There were a lot of reasons. I hoped it would get better. I thought it was just a phase. I thought I could fix it. I thought it was my fault. I thought we could go back.”

“But obviously it didn’t,” Frank interrupted again, feeling himself growing more and more infuriated by Gerard’s words. This was why he hated being kind to people; caring lead to loving blindly. “So why didn’t you stop when you saw that it wouldn’t?”

“In all honesty?” Gerard asked, opening his eyes to look at Frank. Frank nodded. “I felt guilty.”

Frank bit his lip because he had a feeling that would be Gerard’s answer. He’d seen it all before. He knew it all too well. He had nothing to say to that answer other than that it was the stupidest fucking reason ever, but he decided that Gerard didn’t need to hear that.

“I told you he had done so much for me, so every time I thought of leaving him, I remembered all that, and the guilt killed me too much to let me leave.”

Frank nodded, breaking away from Gerard’s gaze. It was too intense for his liking, so he stared down at his lap.

“I think I’m gonna try and sleep,” Gerard said and Frank looked up at him, putting his hand forward with the pillow. Gerard smiled and took the pillow from Frank, carefully placing it underneath his head. “Thanks again, Frank, really, it means a lot.”

“I told you, it’s whatever,” Frank sighed, beating himself up mentally every time Gerard thanked him because he had allowed his walls to come down. “You annoy me and all but I wasn’t gonna leave you on the fucking street.” He had to keep giving him that same exact answer, because that was the only justification he could think of.

An airy noise that was similar to a sort of chuckle left Gerard’s lips and he nodded, adjusting his body and the ice packs that were placed on each throbbing spot. Gerard closed his eyes and Frank took the chance to exit the living room before he made any more decisions that he would regret. He left his bedroom door open and collapsed into his bed, too lazy to change and also being too cold to wear anything lighter. He didn’t have a blanket, so he curled up on his bed and tried to stay as warm as he could.

He could no longer deny it, no matter how much he tried. The moment he saw Gerard laying on the sidewalk, looking like death itself, Frank knew he had begun to care. He was no longer just another employee. Frank, foreign to any emotional attachment, wasn’t sure, though, what to make of it. He knew the same thing had happened with Hambone: he tried to keep it strictly professional, but began to care for him as a friend. The difference, though, was that with Hambone, Frank managed to keep his caring hidden. With Gerard, he had basically flaunted it by taking him into his home. Gerard now knew he cared and that made him feel much too vulnerable and exposed for his liking.


	9. Chapter 8: Without a Thought

Frank woke up in the middle of the night completely unaware of why he was in bed without a blanket. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, blindly walking towards the bathroom until the previous night’s events suddenly hit him with full force. He remembered that Gerard was asleep in his living room using his blanket. It all seemed so unreal.

He froze at the door of his bedroom, looking down at the ground before finally lifting his head up to face the fact that Gerard really was in his living room. His body was outlined under the blanket that was clung tightly to him, his messy head of hair just poking out at the top. Frank stepped closer to the sofa to make sure Gerard was doing ok and was surprised to hear a small whimper before he even reached him.

Frank stopped and then stepped closer again, taking a seat on the coffee table and poking the body under the blanket.

Gerard quickly pulled the blanket off his face when he felt the poke, his tearful eyes wide and staring at Frank.

“I-I’m sorry,” Gerard sighed, quickly swiping at the tears that stained his face.

Frank just stared at Gerard, unsure what to do about the crying mess before him.

“I really should stop,” Gerard croaked, interrupted by a small sob that crept out of his throat.

“Did you sleep?” Frank asked, scratching at the back of his neck.

“No,” Gerard admitted, “I just couldn’t. I kept thinking and thinking and thinking about just everything and—”

He stopped suddenly and took a deep breath, holding back the sobs that were ready to come down on him. He was already feeling pathetic enough, he didn’t want the strangled sobs to reinforce it. Gerard knew he looked weak to Frank, to anyone. He was at his weakest point and he hated being so exposed, but he couldn’t contain it. He had already shown his all to Frank, he was too embarrassed to show any more.

“Do you, uh, need more ice packs?” Frank asked the only question that he could come up with to break the silence. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t for the life of him think of anything else.

“No,” Gerard let out a small laugh, knowing exactly how Frank probably felt about having to deal with Gerard’s emotional state. “I already took them off, they numbed everything up pretty well.” Gerard stuck his slender finger out from under the blanket to point at the coffee table that Frank was sitting on, gesturing to the already melted ice packs that Frank had made for him.

Gerard took another deep breath as he sat himself up. He kept the blanket clutched closely to his body, but shifted to a sitting position so that he was facing Frank directly. Every part of his body felt sore, and now his back felt stiff from being in one position for hours.

“Do you want water or something to eat?” Frank asked.

“No,” Gerard shook his head, closing his eyes as he felt tears creep up again. They just wouldn’t stop.

“Is something hurting again?” Frank asked, noticing Gerard’s shut eyes and pained expression. He didn’t know what to do for aches and pains like Gerard’s and thought that maybe the ice packs weren’t enough.

Gerard just shook his head.

“Do you need anything?” Frank asked, trying to hide his concern, but Gerard heard it.

Gerard heard the many offers Frank was making him. He knew that Frank wanted to help him. He couldn’t understand where this compassionate side of Frank had come from, but he didn’t want to question it. He knew he needed to allow himself to be completely weak in order for him to be able to bounce back again. So Gerard gave in.

“Honestly?” he asked, swallowing the lump in his throat and opening his eyes as a stray tear made its way down his cheek.

“Y-yeah,” Frank nodded.

“Right now, I could use a fucking a hug and a shoulder to cry on,” Gerard sighed, looking up at Frank with desperate eyes.

“Oh,” Frank said, swallowing nervously, not having expected that. He didn’t want to. He wanted to help Gerard, but he didn’t want to help him in _that_ way. He had already done more than his boundaries would allow him. This request was too far to even be included in his boundaries.

“Please?” Gerard begged, his gaze unwavering. As persistent and hyper as Gerard may have been, this was not an everyday thing for him. He never allowed himself to show how desperate he was for anything. He was showing his all to Frank because at that moment, he needed it more than anything.

Frank couldn’t say no. Well, he could, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t say no to the man sitting across from him, beaten physically and emotionally to the point of tears and begging. Even he knew that that wasn’t normal for Gerard, so he just would not say no.

“O-ok, sure,” Frank nodded, standing up and sitting on the sofa next to Gerard. “Yeah.”

Frank sat there awkwardly, not aware of how to take the next step, but Gerard did it for him. He dropped his head against Frank’s shoulder, leaning his whole body nearer to him. He suddenly began to shudder as silent sobs built up, wanting to escape after being suppressed for so long. One hand crept up to the front of Frank’s shirt and he clutched the fabric into his fist, hoping that the tighter he squeezed, the more he would be able to steady himself.

Frank swallowed loudly, definitely knowing that all his limitations were halfway around the world by then. He pulled his arm out that was being squished by Gerard’s body and wrapped it around the shaking man’s shoulders. Frank didn’t dare look down at Gerard, so he just stared ahead into the dark living room. He already felt out of place, but to actually _see_ him cry would just be too much for him.

The sobs lost their silence as they grew comfortable enough to leave Gerard’s lips. He turned his face so that his forehead was against Frank’s shoulder, pressing into it furiously, until he could feel the pain of the cuts that Frank had bandaged restart.

“Your bandages,” Frank mumbled, remembering them without realizing that that was Gerard’s intention.

Gerard ignored him and continued rubbing his forehead against his shoulder, the tears streaming down his face and the whimpers becoming a mix of his emotional and physical pain.

“Gerard, stop,” Frank said firmly, shrugging his shoulder so that Gerard’s forehead lost its place. “I agreed to fucking hug you and shit, don’t use that to hurt yourself more.”

Gerard’s head was now resting against Frank’s chest, his body bent awkwardly, but still somehow feeling comfortable.

“Sorry,” Gerard said plainly, his throat too sore to produce anymore choked sobs.

Frank didn’t say anything. They were both completely silent until Gerard suddenly took hold of Frank’s free hand that was resting on the sofa. Frank held his breath, not expecting the sudden contact. Gerard squeezed Frank’s hand tightly in his, pressing his palm into the roof of Frank’s hand and his fingers into Frank’s palm, aware of Frank’s heart beats increasing in speed against his ear.

“Thank you,” he whispered, “for everything. I know you don’t want to do this, but you are. So thank you.”

“I told you, it’s nothing,” Frank shrugged, biting his lip to refrain from pulling his hand out of Gerard’s grip.

“I hate being like this,” Gerard sighed. “I hate letting him change me.”

“He didn’t change you,” Frank said, “he just beat you until you could do nothing but this.”

Gerard smiled at the fact that Frank was trying to actually comfort him, while Frank was reprimanding himself for every word that left his lips.

“No, but he did,” Gerard insisted. “Not just tonight, but all the time. I had allowed him to get to me, you know? I left a job I loved because of him. I mean I like working with you, but I had always dreamed of working at a comic book store. I stayed out late just so I didn’t have to go home and see him. I was just so unfocused on everything I did because of him.”

“So that’s why you were quiet?” Frank asked, knowing he'd regret asking.

“Huh?”

Frank mouthed, “Shit,” silently. He needed something to permanently shut himself up before he continued to say stupid things like that.

“I mean, at the store,” Frank continued, forcing the words out. “You were quiet all of a sudden.”

“Oh,” Gerard giggled weakly. “You noticed?”

 _No,_ was what Frank’s mind was screaming, but a sighed, “Yeah,” was what left Frank’s mouth.

“That, actually, wasn’t because of him,” Gerard admitted.

“Oh,” was all Frank said, and Gerard laughed weakly, giving Frank’s hand a tight squeeze, before releasing it and sitting himself up off of Frank. Frank had to refrain from sighing in relief.

“Thanks for that,” Gerard said, referring to the hug. “And you know, you’re supposed to ask why.”

“Why what?”

“Why was I quiet if it wasn’t because of my boyfriend,” Gerard informed him, looking at Frank who was staring down at his lap, avoiding any eye contact.

“Oh,” Frank said, not wanting to ask why, but he knew there was no point in having boundaries anymore. He shrugged and asked, “Why?”

“Because of you,” Gerard said simply and Frank’s head snapped up to look at him, not really expecting to hear that.

“Why?” Frank asked, this time on his own.

“Remember when Mikey came?” Gerard said and Frank remembered right away.

“Wait, because of what I said about your brother?” Frank asked. “All this time, you’ve been mad about that?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head, “not mad. I was hurt.” Frank was about to interrupt, but Gerard continued before he could. “I know I annoyed the shit out of you and stuff, I mean that much was obvious, but, like, I guess I still kind of hoped or felt like we were still ok friends. I mean friends annoy each other all the time, right? So I just kind of was hoping you liked me. When you compared me to Mikey, I just…I don’t know, I can be really fucking self-conscious sometimes.”

Frank was surprised to hear Gerard say he was self-conscious. That was the last thing he thought Gerard would be. To Frank, Gerard’s talkative nature always translated to a sort of confidence and courage. Though it annoyed him most of the time, he did admire it in a sense because he knew it was something he could never have.

“I love Mikey, don’t get me wrong,” Gerard continued. “He’s my baby brother and we have this awesome relationship, but ever since we were kids, I always felt pretty low compared to him. I was just, like, this weird kid and Mikey was the normal one. I never really made friends on my own. To be honest, none of my friends are friends I made myself. They’re all people Mikey met and then I got to know them through him. Even Blake was friends with Mikey first. I was always just Mikey’s weird older brother that drew comics and shit. You were the first person I thought I had managed to make friends with on my own, and then I guess hearing that was kind of a ‘fuck you’ to that thought.”

Frank didn’t realize how much weight his words had carried with him that day. It was a blunt comment that he had not actually meant to have such a serious connotation behind it. Hearing Gerard confess this to him, especially in his state, actually made Frank feel guilty. And as much as Frank hated guilt, he didn’t bother fighting it off this time because he felt he deserved it.

“Sorry,” Frank said, breaking his gaze with Gerard when he said it. “I didn’t really mean much by saying it, I didn’t know it meant that much to you or would make you all weird and shit, so, yeah, sorry...I guess.”

Gerard smiled at Frank’s apology, knowing that a guy like Frank probably didn’t apologize much in his life.

“No worries,” Gerard shrugged. “I think I did take it too personally, ya know?”

Frank just hummed absentmindedly, losing himself in thought for a little. Every few minutes it would hit him what he was doing: talking to a wounded Gerard in his living room. Of all the people he met and pushed away in his life, he never thought he would have to fear a closeness forming between him and Gerard. But there they were, Gerard pouring his heart out to Frank like they had been friends for years. Frank wasn’t sure whether to hate it or accept it; he just couldn’t do anything about it.

“Frank?” Gerard spoke, breaking Frank out of his haze of thoughts.

“What?”

“I asked you something,” Gerard said.

“Oh, I zoned out,” Frank admitted. “What?”

“I asked if you consider us friends,” Gerard said, actually looking shy but sounding extremely hopeful.

Frank deliberated for a minute what to say. He wanted to say no, obviously, but there was no way he could reject Gerard at his weakest and most emotionally indigent.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “You’re in my fucking house, I mean, shit, I wouldn’t let fucking strangers in here.”

Frank scratched at the back of his neck, mentally slapping himself for his sad excuse of an explanation. He had no other reason, though.

Gerard broke out into his toothy grin and Frank had to admit that that made it worth it. After seeing Gerard so broken, he didn’t think he would ever see that typical smile grace Gerard’s features again.

“That makes me pretty happy,” Gerard said, looking down at his lap. “Thanks...again.”

Frank just shrugged, knowing that he had said more than enough that night.

“You should try and sleep,” Frank suggested, standing up off the sofa.

“Yeah, I will,” Gerard nodded. “Good night.”

“Night.”

Frank hurried back into his room, this time shutting his bedroom door because for a moment, he needed to pretend he was alone in his apartment. He needed to tell himself that it was another night after work of him enjoying his empty apartment. His body subconsciously found its way to the bed, collapsing into it. He needed to sleep and stop himself from thinking. Not thinking about the fact that he was no longer alone would make it easier to just play along and go with it. So he shut his eyes and shut off his thoughts.


	10. Chapter 9: Naturally Different

When Frank woke up in the morning, the first thing that hit him was the smell of his house. It smelled like his parents’ house used to smell: like there was food being cooked. Frank couldn’t even remember the last time he had actually _cooked_ something. He scooted out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way out of his room, his body still in a limp state after just waking up.

Frank saw that Gerard wasn’t on the sofa, but was in the kitchen, his back towards Frank as he was doing something at the stove. Frank just stood there, staring at Gerard’s bare back; apparently, he had decided to take his shirt off sometime between waking up and deciding to cook in Frank’s kitchen. His shoulder blade moved beneath his pale skin as he stirred whatever he was making.

Frank cleared his throat and Gerard quickly spun around, jumping slightly, like it was _his_ house and he was surprised to see Frank there.

“Oh, morning, Frank,” Gerard greeted him, the usual cheerfulness back in his tone.

“Uh, morning,” Frank responded, stepping into the kitchen.

“I know, I know,” Gerard said, his eyes no longer on Frank, but on the pan he had going over the stove, “I just totally took over your kitchen, but I really wanted a way to thank you for everything you did. It would be weird to use your food to cook with, because then I wouldn’t really be thanking you, I’d be spending your money. Plus, you really didn’t have that much food in here. Well, anyways, I went out and bought what I would need to make you a good breakfast.”

Frank just stared as Gerard talked energetically. It was morning. How was he so awake? Frank didn’t question it, though, because he was inwardly glad to see Gerard finally back to his usual energetic self.

“Thanks,” Frank mumbled, looking around the kitchen. There were two plates set out on the counter, each with a tortilla laid out flat. One of them had some sort of meat placed in the center. “Oh, uh, I’m a vegetarian.”

“Duh, I know,” Gerard shrugged. “That one is mine. I’m making you a vegetarian one.”

“You know?” Frank asked, wondering if Gerard searched through his house so that he could learn everything about him.

“Yeah, I asked you once,” Gerard shrugged, but Frank didn’t remember it at all.

“You did?”

“Yup,” Gerard nodded. “I actually pay attention to all those questions I ask you.”

“Oh,” Frank nodded, remembering that Gerard had asked him a million questions during his talkative days at the store. He was surprised that Gerard actually took in all the information. “Well, thanks.”

“No problem,” Gerard shrugged. “You probably have time to, like, shower and change and stuff if you want to do that first.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, feeling extremely awkward in his own home. This was not normal at all.

Just as Frank was about to walk out of the kitchen, he caught sight of something on Gerard’s lower back. It was a horrible looking bruise. Frank cringed, knowing it was from the night before because it still looked extremely fresh. Gerard hadn’t mentioned having a bruise there, so he hadn’t put an ice pack on it. Frank sighed and walked to the freezer instead of leaving the kitchen. He took out the ice pack and then walked over to Gerard, pressing the ice pack into his back.

Gerard made a squeaky yelping noise, jumping a little and then he quickly spun around to face Frank, dropping the ice pack from between the two of them from the speed of his spin, leaving Frank’s open palm in the air, touching his bruised stomach. They both stared down for a second that seemed to last an eternity, until Frank finally pulled his hand away and bent over to pick up the ice pack, ignoring the blush that had crept on to Gerard’s face.

“You have a huge bruise on your back,” Frank said plainly, taking a step back from Gerard’s body and extending his arm out with the ice pack. “How did you not feel it?”

“I-I don’t know,” Gerard shrugged. He took the ice pack from Frank and just held it in his hand.

“Well put it on your back,” Frank urged. “Hold it there, it looks bad.”

“Ok, thanks,” Gerard smiled up at him, more grateful for Frank’s caring side than he could ever actually express.

Frank shrugged and left the kitchen before he landed himself in yet another awkward moment.

Gerard continued making his and Frank’s breakfast while he waited for Frank to get ready. He held the ice pack firmly against the bruise on his back while he continued cooking the vegetables. Gerard knew, without a doubt in his mind, that he liked Frank as more than a friend. That had become apparent to him the night before, when Frank took him into his home and cared for him the way he did. Anyone could have done that and Gerard would have just been grateful, but with Frank, he knew how much Frank disliked doing things like that and showing his emotions, yet when Gerard needed him, he disregarded it all and helped Gerard in every way he could. Gerard wasn’t entirely sure if his feelings were just in the moment and a random spur of emotions brought on by being shown compassion after being shown the opposite by Blake, but seeing Frank that morning, having him come so close to him that it made his stomach do crazy flips, confirmed his feelings. Gerard knew his feelings would be unrequited, but it didn’t even bother him. He was perfectly content with maintaining a friendship with Frank.

Once the vegetables were cooked enough, Gerard turned off the stove and scooped half the vegetables out onto his tortilla that contained meat, and then piled the rest onto the other tortilla that was meatless for Frank. He added a sauce he had made to both burritos, putting extra for Frank since there was no meat, carefully wrapped the burritos expertly, and then walked both plates over to the coffee table in the living room since Frank didn’t even have a dining table.

He went back into the kitchen and poured them each a cup of orange juice, which he had also bought that morning. Frank didn’t have much in his kitchen. All he had were all the necessities for making coffee, beer, frozen dinners, Poptarts, and instant noodles. It surprised Gerard. He knew Frank lived alone, but everything reminded him of a college dorm, not the apartment of a twenty six year old.

Gerard took the two cups of orange juice to the living room and sat on the sofa, taking the ice pack to his back, and pressing it firmly against the throbbing spot of skin. He didn’t even know if ice would actually help the bruise since it had been left alone the entire tonight, but he didn’t want to reject Frank’s kind gesture. He kept his hand against the cold pack, and let his head fall back against the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. In reality, he wasn’t in the mood to talk or be cheerful at all, but he felt like he owed Frank at least that. Frank didn’t seem fond of the silent and upset Gerard, so he decided he would go back to his old self just for him.

He had shut his eyes and was taking deep breaths when Frank walked into the living room, his hair dripping onto his black long sleeve shirt. He stopped when he saw Gerard, still shirtless, one hand behind his back, the other resting casually on his thigh. He had his head against the back of the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, his eyes shut tight. His pale chest was heaving steadily with every slow breath he took. He had his lips slightly parted, breathing deeply through them rather than just his nose. Frank couldn’t take his eyes off of Gerard in this strange moment that was completely out of his character.

Gerard swallowed, his Adams apple clearly visible to Frank on his completely exposed neck. Frank finally cleared his throat, feeling like a creep for staring that long. Gerard’s eyes snapped open at the same time that he pulled the back of his head off the sofa.

“Oh, hey,” he smiled. “Breakfast is ready.” He gestured towards the coffee table.

“Thanks,” Frank nodded, walking over to the sofa, keeping a good enough distance between himself and Gerard’s bare upper body. “How’s the bruise on your back?”

“It feels numb now,” Gerard shrugged, taking the ice pack off and leaving it next to him.

Frank nodded and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbow, then leaned his elbows against his knees as he picked up the burrito Gerard had made him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten a home-cooked meal. He was actually looking forward to it.

Gerard was looking at Frank eagerly, waiting to hear what he thought of the burrito. Frank noticed and stopped short of taking a bite.

“Why are you staring?” he asked, facing Gerard.

“I wanna hear what you think,” Gerard said casually, smiling. “Hurry, take the first bite.”

“If it doesn’t taste good, I’m gonna tell you,” Frank said, facing his burrito again, and taking the first bite out of it.

Frank didn’t know if it was from his tongue being exposed to nothing but cheap frozen dinners, or if Gerard’s cooking was just genuinely good.

“Wow,” Frank said, his mouth full. “That’s actually really good.”

Gerard’s grin grew even wider and he finally reached over and took his own plate.

“Breakfast burrito recipe from my grandma,” Gerard said, taking a bite of his own burrito. “She was the best cook ever.”

“Have her come stay here,” Frank said, eating like he hadn’t eaten in years. “I need more good fucking food.”

“She passed away actually,” Gerard said. “But she would have cooked you five meals every single day if she saw your kitchen.”

“Oh,” Frank said, suddenly feeling awkward again.

“Don’t get all quiet,” Gerard laughed. “She passed away, yeah, but she wasn’t the type to want people crying over her every time she’s mentioned or feel weird talking about her.”

“Oh, ok,” Frank nodded. “Well, yeah, she was definitely an amazing cook.”

It was still an awkward statement, but Gerard smiled at Frank for trying.

“So, you play the guitar?” Gerard asked, nodding his head towards the guitar that was resting against the wall in the kitchen and talking around the food in his mouth. He knew his grandma would have actually smacked him for that, but Frank wouldn’t.

Frank nodded, too engrossed in his meal to actually speak.

“You should play for me,” Gerard suggested.

“I don’t really play in front of anyone,” Frank shrugged, taking the final bite of his burrito, having finished way too quickly for a normal person. Gerard was only halfway through his. “It’s, like, a personal hobby.”

“Oh, ok,” Gerard said simply, sounding only slightly disappointed. “I get that.”

Frank was actually taken aback by Gerard not pestering him repeatedly until he gave in. Happy that he wouldn’t have to deal with Gerard being stubborn, Frank gulped down his cup of orange juice and stood up, taking his plate and cup to the kitchen.

“Do you need clothes?” Frank asked, calling Gerard over the running water while he washed the dishes. “You could, uh, borrow some of mine if you want for today. No underwear, though, that’s gross.”

“No,” Gerard laughed. “I think these are fine.”

Frank scrunched up his face; he wouldn’t last more than a day in the same clothes. He already felt grossed out about sleeping in his clothes the night before, but didn’t say anything to Gerard. Gerard brought his plate and cup to the kitchen, and Frank took them from him, washing them as well while Gerard got his shirt back on. Once Frank was done cleaning, he and Gerard headed out, the two of them making some sort of silent agreement to take Gerard’s car to work.

Gerard drove this time, obviously. His entire body was still a bit sore, not enough to hold him back from doing anything. When they were just minute away from the store, Gerard took a deep breath and blurted out a question that had been floating around his mind the entire morning.

“Frank, can I stay with you a couple days?”

Frank had been leaning his head on his hand that was propped up by his elbow against the window. He had not expected that and it took him a few seconds to actually turn to look at Gerard, whose eyes were locked on the road in front of him.

Frank had helped him. Frank had allowed him to stay the night at his home. Frank had shown care and compassion, two things he hated doing. Frank wasn’t prepared to welcome the guy into his house. He just stared at Gerard, who looked sick with nerves, though, as he waited for Frank to reply.

“I know, I know, that’s weird,” Gerard began rambling. “But I swear I’m not asking to be, like, roommates. I talked to Mikey this morning and he’s getting a place on his own soon, like really soon, and I just need a place to crash until then and then I’m moving in with him.”

Frank was still staring, the word “no” already lingering behind his closed mouth.

“I swear I won’t be any trouble,” Gerard continued. “I won’t bug you. I’ll cook every day if you want, I have all my grandma’s recipes. I’ll pay for the groceries. You don’t even have to pay me at the store anymore, that’ll pay off me staying with you.”

Frank still stared silently.

“I was just gonna go back to Blake, but he said he’s kicking me out.”

That triggered the end to Frank’s silence.

“You were gonna go back?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“If Blake didn’t kick you out, you were gonna go back and stay with him?”

Gerard’s hands shifted uncomfortably along the steering wheel, taking one hand to mindlessly tuck a strand of hair behind his ear even though it wasn’t exactly in his face. He just needed something to do.

“Well,” Gerard breathed, “I don’t have anywhere to go, so yeah, probably.”

“So fucking stupid,” Frank shook his head, pulling his gaze off of Gerard and looking out the window again. “I should say no just for you being that dumb.”

Gerard swallowed, loud enough for Frank to hear. Gerard wasn’t even hurt or offended by Frank’s words, because he knew it was true. No smart person would go back to their boyfriend after he hit them. But Gerard wasn’t smart.

Silence and tension mingled together for the rest of the car ride, Gerard not receiving an answer from Frank, and Frank not knowing what answer to give.

They finally pulled up in front of the record store. Gerard shut off the car and looked towards Frank, who still had his cheek resting against his hand.

“Fine,” Frank mumbled.

Gerard just blinked and stared at Frank.

“You can stay at my place, only cause I’m not about to be the reason you go back to your fuck of a boyfriend and have him beat you again. I just fucking helped you, I don’t want it to have been a waste of time.”

Gerard, once again, could only manage to blink at Frank, who finally turned to face him, staring at him with somewhat angry eyes. Frank let out a defeated sigh and opened the car door, quickly jumping out and slamming the door shut behind him.

Before Frank could pull out the key to the store, he heard Gerard’s car door shut, a pair of feet coming in loud contact with the pavement, and next thing he knew, Gerard had him by the shoulders, spun him around, and took him into a suffocating and bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Gerard sighed. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Frank just stood with his arms at his side, not able to move them even if he wanted to because Gerard’s were wrapped tightly around them, his hands coming together at the center of Frank’s back. Frank’s head landed right on Gerard’s shoulder because of his height, resting there without him intending on doing so.

“Yeah,” was all Frank managed to say.

Naturally, Frank would have pushed Gerard off of him, hating the suddenly close personal contact. But then again, naturally, Frank wouldn’t have allowed Gerard to stay at his home no matter the circumstances. And naturally, Frank wouldn’t have had to actually resist the urge to wrap his arms around Gerard and hug him back. Things were different.


	11. Chapter 10: Present Thinking

That day at work was the smoothest Frank and Gerard had ever experienced. Gerard was as talkative as ever, but, although it got annoying, it didn’t bother Frank as much as it had before. He reasoned with himself that it was because he was just getting used to it. For the first time for as long as he could remember, Frank went the entire day without putting his headphones in.

When closing time came, Frank closed the store and walked home while Gerard took his car to get a few things from his old place. Frank wasn’t sure about Gerard going over there alone, but of course, he didn’t voice this worry. He was content with Gerard informing him that Blake was usually not home until later in the night.

Frank sat in his living room, aimlessly flipping through the channels, not allowing himself to think that he was _worriedly_ waiting for Gerard to return. Fortunately for his belligerent mind, it took Gerard less than an hour to get back to the apartment. When Frank heard a knock at his front door, he practically ran to open it.

Gerard stood there, all smiles, two stuffed garbage bags in hand and two grocery bags as well.

“I only brought the important stuff,” Gerard said, “so that I don’t take up space.”

“Ok, it’s cool,” Frank nodded, stepping aside so that Gerard could go in. He shut the door and sat back down on the sofa as Gerard set the two bags down on the floor, then took the two grocery bags to the kitchen.

“I stopped by the grocery store,” Gerard called out into the living room as he began putting away the groceries he bought. “I got some things that should be good enough for breakfast and dinner for a few days. I might as well make you real food while I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Frank said, walking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter. He watched Gerard pull out various items and store them in Frank’s unused cabinets.

“Are you sleepy?” Gerard asked Frank randomly.

“Uh, no, why?”

“I’m gonna make soup for dinner,” Gerard said. “Oh, can you bring the bag that has all the kitchen stuff?”

“You brought kitchen stuff?” Frank raised his eye brow.

“Yeah,” Gerard shrugged, “you only have a kettle and a pan, Frank, I need more than that to actually cook.”

“True,” Frank nodded. He turned around and went into the living room. One garbage bag was obviously stuffed with clothes while the inside of the other one clinked around with various kitchen utensils. He took that one into the kitchen and Gerard took it from him, already done with the groceries. Gerard proceeded to store the various pots and pans he had brought with him. He left out one pot, one pan, and Frank’s kettle.

Frank just casually leaned his back against the counter as Gerard got to work. He began boiling some water, while taking out some vegetables and chopping them. Frank had a question lingering in his mind but he couldn’t seem to get it out, so he distracted himself with watching Gerard cook.

Once the vegetables were done being sautéed, the loud hissing filling the kitchen, and giving the house a delicious smell, Frank had wrestled with his mind enough to blurt out the question.

“Was Blake there?” he said, his voice followed by a heavy and suffocating silence.

The silence was cut briefly when the kettle whistled, signaling that the water was done boiling. Gerard clattered around clumsily, taking the kettle and pouring the water into one of the pots. He set it back down, and began stirring various contents into the water.

“Yes,” Gerard answered, “he was.”

Frank’s natural instinct would have been to yell “What?!” but he voted against it, and kept himself calm and firmly pressed against the counter.

“Oh,” was what he said. "Did, uh, anything happen?”

“No,” Gerard sighed, turning away from the stove to get some of the spices he’d put away out of the cabinet. Even though he was standing right next to Frank, he avoided his gaze completely, pulling out a few spices and going back to the stove, his back facing Frank again. “He was in the shower. He didn’t see me.”

“Oh, ok,” Frank nodded. “That’s good.”

Gerard simply nodded, hating to touch the subject. When he had arrived to his apartment and realized Blake was home, his entire body shook while he gathered his things, moving faster than he thought possible so that Blake didn’t come out before he left. He wasn’t sure what scared him more: Blake seeing him and possibly hurting him again, or the two of them actually confronting the status of their relationship. Blake had kicked him out, but they never actually spoke of where their relationship stood. Gerard wanted it to end, yet he was scared to actually see it end. He still wished they could just go back to the way they used to be. If there was a chance of that happening, Gerard would definitely go back. One thing he could never doubt was that Blake did actually know how to make him happy once upon a time…

“Uh, Gerard?” Frank’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He shook off his pestering mind and turned to face Frank, allowing a smile to replace his obviously emotionally exasperated expression.

“Sorry, I was trying to remember the details to this recipe,” Gerard lied. “What’s up?”

“I just said, uh, I’ll be in the living room if you, like, needed any help.”

“Oh, ok, thanks,” Gerard smiled, grateful that he would have some alone time to completely let his guard down; it would make it easier to smile later on if he got it out of his system then.

It didn’t take him long to finish preparing the soup. It only took a little under half an hour. He left it on the stove, with the lid on, to sit over the heat for a little while longer, before going out to the living room. Frank was sitting on the sofa with a notebook in hand, writing something.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Gerard informed him, taking a seat on the armrest of the sofa. He noticed that Frank was writing music notes on a blank sheet of staff paper. He was so focused that he hadn’t even noticed Gerard’s presence. Gerard had hoped to hear Frank play the guitar, but he noticed that Frank was writing the notes in vigorously without actually going near his guitar that was still in the kitchen.

Gerard sat silently, admiring Frank’s determined focus until Frank actually noticed someone staring at him from the corner of his eye. He looked up and saw Gerard.

“Oh, is dinner done?” Frank asked, shutting his notebook.

“No,” Gerard answered, “almost. I didn’t know you write your own songs.”

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged, “sometimes. Playing other songs just gets old.”

“You’ve never played for anyone?” Gerard asked.

Frank shook his head.

“But what if you could, like, get somewhere with your talent?”

“You’ve never heard me play,” Frank noted.

“Yeah,” Gerard rolled his eyes, “but I mean, if you’re really good.”

“Well, even if I am, I don’t really wanna go anywhere with it. It’s just something I like to enjoy by myself.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Gerard nodded. “I used to be like that with my drawings, but there’s something about people seeing my art. It’s the best feeling.”

“Well you’re good,” Frank admitted. “I’ve only seen the sign but it was really good.”

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled. “I think the soup is done. What do you want to drink? Soda?”

“Sure,” Frank nodded. “You can grab some beer from the fridge if you want.”

Gerard nodded and went back into the kitchen, stirring the soup around a couple more times, before finally pouring it into two bowls, having made just enough for the two of them. He walked the bowls out into the living room, setting them on the coffee table, and then went back to get the drinks, grabbing a soda can for Frank and a bottle of beer for himself. He brought out spoons as well and sat next to Frank, handing him the spoon and his soda.

Frank wasn’t surprised at all that the soup tasted absolutely delicious. Gerard’s breakfast had impressed him enough to convince him that he was a master in the kitchen. They ate in a comfortable silence, Frank finishing his soup quicker, just like he had at breakfast.

“You liked it?” Gerard asked, beaming at Frank’s empty bowl.

“Yeah, it was really good,” he nodded, standing up to take his bowl into the kitchen. He washed it and the items Gerard had used to cook.

He went back out to the living room and Gerard was just finishing up his own bowl of soup. Frank sat down, taking small sips of his soda, and Gerard took his own bowl to the kitchen. He washed his bowl and then looked over at Frank’s guitar that still hadn’t been touched. Gerard had had experiences with the guitar, not really able to do much with it. He picked up Frank’s guitar and walked back out to the living room.

“Do you mind?” Gerard asked, gesturing towards the guitar which he was holding gently by the neck.

“Nah,” Frank shook his head. “You play?”

“Not really,” Gerard sighed, sitting down on the sofa with the guitar in his lap. “I mean, I’m not good. I remember when I was younger I got kicked out of a band cause I couldn’t play ‘Sweet Home Alabama.’”

“Oh man,” Frank chuckled slightly. “That’s a basic song.”

“I know, I know,” Gerard rolled his eyes playfully. He noticed that Frank actually laughed casually with him and he had to keep himself from loudly celebrating that fact. “Don’t remind me.”

Gerard adjusted his fingers before strumming the guitar gently. The notes came out well enough, but when he strummed again, the sound came out completely different and he noticed that his fingers had shifted.

“Damn,” Gerard sighed. He tried a few more times, but he would always mess up, either moving his fingers over to the wrong place, or strumming incorrectly. “Yeah I’m gonna stick to drawing and cooking.”

“You’re too tense,” Frank noted, leaning over and pulling Gerard’s fingers off the neck of the guitar. Gerard held his breath at the small touch, but kept his composure as Frank readjusted Gerard’s fingers. “Keep them on there, but not too hard. And when you strum,” he took Gerard’s other hand and guided it gently over the strings. Gerard’s hand was completely limp in Frank’s, not having expected Frank to be so comfortable around him. “Don’t be too particular about it, but don’t be too loose, either. Find the right medium.”

Frank pulled his hand away and waited for Gerard to strum on his own, but it took him a few seconds of blinking to get back to reality. He could have sworn Frank’s hand was still on his because of the warmth he felt there. He strummed, trying to keep in mind what Frank told him. It definitely sounded a lot better, but still wasn’t great.

“Show me,” Gerard said, pushing the guitar towards Frank.

Frank looked hesitant, but took the guitar from Gerard. He definitely looked right at home with the guitar sitting in his lap the way it did. He held the neck with a sort of intricacy yet casualty that Gerard couldn’t get his mind around. He looked completely comfortable with just the right amount of focus. Gerard could have just stared at him holding the guitar and still be satisfied.

But when Frank actually played, simply alternating between a few chords, Gerard was blown away. It was just a few simple notes that didn’t exactly come together in any particular way, but they were so smooth and Frank was so at ease, that it was a masterpiece to Gerard. He knew that if Frank gave in and played an entire song it would be amazing.

“See, you just keep relaxed,” Frank said just before stopping. “I bet if you practiced you’d get better.”

“I’ll stick to my drawings and food,” Gerard laughed. “But you’re really, really good!”

“I only played like two chords,” Frank shrugged, setting his guitar down on the floor so that it leaned against the sofa.

“I know, but I can tell you’re good,” Gerard insisted. “You have to play a full song for me.”

“Eh, maybe another time,” Frank shrugged, not keen on sharing his hobby with anyone else yet. He could at least maintain _some_ boundaries. He stood up and stretched his arms high. “I think we should get some sleep. We gotta be at the store a little earlier tomorrow cause new inventory is gonna be shipped over.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded.

“I’ll change in my room, you can change here, or the bathroom or whatever,” Frank shrugged and Gerard nodded. “Uh, yeah, good night.”

“Night.”

Frank walked into his room and shut the door, changing out of his clothes and into his pajama pants. He was going to sleep without a shirt when he remembered that he didn’t have a blanket to sleep with. His only one was still on the sofa for Gerard to use. Frank sighed and pulled out an old hoodie, deciding that it would be enough to keep him warm for the rest of the night.

He crawled into bed and stared at the ceiling, allowing the day’s events to sink in. He knew there was no turning back; he had a friendship with Gerard and there was no changing it. There was no part of him that regretted it, at least not yet, but he still felt a sense of anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach. There was a definite fear in the back of his mind that now that he’d allowed himself to get close to someone, it would backfire on him.

He sighed exasperatedly and shut his eyes, knowing that those thoughts would only make everything so much more difficult. He told himself to think of only of the present because thinking of anything past it would trigger pessimistic attitude about the unknown future.


	12. Chapter 11: Above and Beyond

Frank woke up the next morning with a delicious smell filling his whole house. He still couldn’t get used to the fact that his kitchen was actually being used for its real purpose. Scrubbing his eyes as he walked, he made his way out of his room and into the kitchen.

Gerard was once again at the stove, shirtless…again. Frank could tell he’d showered, his hair still dripping, small droplets rolling down his pale back, each muscle in motion as his arms busied themselves at the stove.

“Do you always have to cook without a shirt?” Frank mumbled, dragging his eyes off of Gerard’s back and onto the floor.

Gerard spun around, surprised by Frank’s sudden and silent entrance.

“Oh, morning,” he greeted, grinning. “It gets really hot in your kitchen cause it’s so small.” Gerard turned back around and continued his concoction for that morning. “I’m almost done with breakfast. Grandma’s famous pumpkin pancakes.”

“Damn, that sounds good,” Frank said.

“I know, you said you liked pumpkin pop tarts,” Gerard noted. “So I thought this is a better substitute.”

“What the hell…did you ask me that, too?”

“Yeah, you mentioned it once,” Gerard nodded.

“Shit, your memory is good, better than mine,” Frank mumbled, trying to remember when he actually told Gerard that. He had asked him so many questions that Frank would absentmindedly answer, he couldn’t even remember what they were.

“Thanks, I try,” Gerard laughed. “Go get dressed. You said we have to be at the store early.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah I forgot.” Frank pushed himself off the counter and headed over to his room, skipping the shower that day. He got dressed in a matter of minutes and went back out to the living room, where Gerard—shirt back on—was on the sofa, a stack of pancakes covered in syrup in front of him. Frank joined him, drenching his own pancakes with syrup.

“Fuck,” Frank muttered through his first mouthful of pancakes.

“What?” Gerard asked, nervous that Frank wouldn’t like the food.

“This is fucking good,” Frank said, his mouth still full. “Shit.”

A smile made its way onto Gerard’s face as he watched Frank indulge in the breakfast like he was eating the most delicious thing ever created.

Gerard smiled proudly.

They finished their breakfast in the same, quick routine, Frank continuingly praising how delicious it was. They went to work in Gerard’s car, right in time for the delivery truck that was pulled up in front of the store. 

Later on, Frank and Gerard shelved all the new items, being able to connect over their similar taste in music.

“Do you see the people on these magazines?” Gerard scoffed. “I mean, why all the attention...? I don't get it.”

“It’s all the brainwashing,” Frank shrugged. “It makes it easier to sell shit if everyone likes the same thing, so they promote what’s ‘popular’ to keep everyone in this group.”

“Damn, that’s deep,” Gerard mused, staring at Frank with amusement. Frank could always rant endlessly when it came to talking about anything music-related. “That’s a really good point, too. It makes a lot of sense.”

“It explains how all these amazing bands don’t get any recognition,” Frank sighed, having to move aside a few “unpopular” magazines for the new teen magazines. “I hate having to do it, but boss’s orders.”

“So it's not up you what you have here?” Gerard asked, taking the old magazines from Frank and placing them somewhere else.

“Hell no, if I could you think I’d have any of this?”

“True,” Gerard laughed.

“My boss owns a shitload of these stores, and basically lets me do whatever the hell I want, except for certain things,” Frank explained. “I’d be able to get away with not putting these magazines except that he has contracts with them. Man, if I could have my own store…” Frank sighed. “That would be amazing.”

“You’d have the best music,” Gerard agreed.

“Fuck yeah.”

They finished shelving the new stock, mostly magazines but a few CD’s, and then went back to their usual places, Frank behind the register and Gerard at his chair.

The day passed by quickly and before they knew it, closing time had come. Frank gathered the boxes that the inventory had come in and took them out, past the lounge, and to the alleyway in the back where the dumpster was. He heaved them in, holding his breath unlike usual when he would take in the chilly Jersey night air, because the stench of the dumpsters would fill his nostrils instead.

He made his way back to the front of the shop and found that Mikey had joined Gerard, standing in one of the aisles and looking at the local bands section.

“Hey, Frank,” Mikey waved when he saw him join them.

“Hey,” Frank waved back. “Find any bands you like?”

“Actually,” Mikey said, holding up a CD, “I came for this one.”

He was holding out a CD by the band Pencey Prep.

“Oh, I know the guy in that band,” Frank noted.

“You do?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah, remember the guy that came by here? Hambone?”

“Oh! Yeah, I remember him, they any good?”

“Hell yeah,” Frank nodded right away. “You know I don’t flatter anyone; that band’s going somewhere.”

“You got good taste,” Mikey noted, nudging Gerard and pointing at Frank.

“He does,” Gerard nodded.

“You want me to ring this up?” Frank said, pointing at the CD in Mikey’s hand.

Mikey nodded and followed Frank over to the register. Frank rung up the purchase and bagged it for him.

“So, hey, I mostly came to thank you,” Mikey said as he took the bag from Frank. “I, uh, know what happened with Gerard and Blake, and thanks for helping him out till I get a place.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Frank rambled, shrugging. “It’s no big deal, really.”

“No it is pretty huge,” Mikey countered him, showing that the stubborn nature ran through him just as much as it did his brother, just not as obvious. “Why don’t you come out with Gerard and me? As, like, a thank you and it’s all on me.”

Frank opened his mouth to say that it’s fine and that Mikey didn’t need to do something like that, but Gerard quickly stepped up to the counter.

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard said, “it’ll be fun. And it’s a thank you from me, too.”

“I told you, you don’t have to keep thanking me,” Frank shrugged, feeling pressured by the two brothers, knowing the stubbornness was now doubled.

“Gerard will keep bugging you until you say yes, you probably already know that,” Mikey laughed.

“That’s true,” Gerard agreed.

Frank was ready to argue, but he knew there was no hope and that Gerard would be twice as stubborn having his brother by his side.

“Ok, fine,” Frank sighed.

“Awesome,” Mikey nodded.

Frank just nodded awkwardly, loathing himself for giving in. The last time he’d been out and interacting with others socially was when Hambone coaxed him into going to one of Pencey Prep’s gigs in exchange for a free tattoo.

They took Gerard’s car, Frank sitting in the backseat and Mikey taking his place in the passenger’s seat. The bar that Mikey wanted to take them to wasn’t very far so they were there in a matter of minutes.

The bar was the same one Frank saw Pencey Prep play in. Just as it was that night, people crowded the outside, lined up alongside the building, waiting to get in.

“I know the guy at the front,” Mikey told them as they walked right past the people lined up. Gerard and Mikey were walking side by side and Frank trailed behind a bit, feeling awkward and out of place.

Frank allowed himself to zone out, simply being carried through the motions by following the back of Gerard’s and Mikey’s heads. After a brief pause at the door where Mikey talked to a larger than life bouncer, who smiled, said his greetings to the three men, and let them in in front of everyone else.

Next thing he knew, Frank was in a crowd of people cheering on the band who was belting out a string of fast paced guitar riffs. Frank was jolted back to reality when he felt a hand clasp around his wrist. He looked up to see that the hand was attached to Gerard who was shouting something and pulling Frank forward. Frank couldn’t hear what Gerard was saying, but simply followed his pull, bumping past a few people. His height, for once, helped him duck past a few raised arms. Gerard had pulled him to the front, where it was surprisingly less crowded.

“I lost you!” Gerard shouted, leaning in so that Frank could hear him. “I don’t think you’re tall enough to attend these kinds of events.”

“Fuck you!” Frank scoffed, punching his arm. “Who are these guys?”

“What?” Gerard leaned in even closer, placing a hand on Frank’s shoulder and leaning his face in so that Frank’s mouth was right next to his ear. Gerard regretted the close proximity when he felt Frank’s breath hit his skin as he spoke.

“I said who are these guys?”

“O-Oh,” Gerard stuttered, quickly pulling away so that he wasn’t too close. “I don’t know, Mikey said his girlfriend knows the guy or something, but he’s never heard of them.”

“They sound alright,” Frank stated and Gerard regretfully had to lean in again, biting his lip as Frank spoke. “They need more practice, but they sound really good.”

“They don’t sound that great to me to be honest,” Gerard shrugged.

Frank was about to speak, but Gerard interrupted him.

“Let’s go to the bar, I can’t hear shit over here!”

Not really giving Frank a choice, he took Frank by the wrist and dragged him out of the crowd until they reached the bar in the back. Mikey was just leaving the bar, two drinks in hand. He saw Gerard and Frank and smiled.

“You guys enjoying the show?”

“Yeah, we actually came to get some drinks and talk about it,” Gerard nodded. “You’re paying, remember?”

“Hey!” Mikey called out to the bartender. “These two guys, all their drinks are on my tab.”

The bartender nodded and smiled.

“Don’t drink too much, ass hole,” Mikey said, nudging Gerard’s shoulder with his drink, before taking off into the crowd of people.

“Oh I’m so running up that tab,” Gerard laughed, taking a seat at the bar. Frank followed, sitting in the seat next to him.

“So you don’t like the band?” Frank asked after Gerard told the bartender to start them each off with a beer.

“They don’t sound good,” Gerard shrugged. “You really think they do?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, taking a sip of his beer when the bartender brought it to them. “Keep in mind they’re a new band so they probably haven’t had much practice playing live, so don’t judge them by their performance right off the bat.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, always fascinated and drawn in by the way Frank talked about music. “So how could you tell if they have potential?”

“It’s a little distorted and shit,” Frank shrugged, taking another swig of beer. “But listen past that. Try and catch the melody of the guitars and then compare that to the lead singer’s voice and tune of the song. I mean, basically look past all the noise, you know?”

“Is it that easy?” Gerard laughed. “That sounds hard to do.”

“If you listen closely, you can catch it without effort,” Frank shrugged.

“Why don’t you join or start a band?” Gerard asked.

Frank just shrugged and chugged down the rest of his beer so that he wouldn’t have to actually answer the question. Gerard smiled, knowing what Frank was doing and took a casual sip of his own beer, not wanting to drink too much because he knew once he started he wouldn’t stop.

“Well?” Gerard pushed.

“Well, what?” Frank asked.

“Why don’t you join or start a band?”

Frank rolled his eyes and called the bartender over for another drink; the bartender asked what but Frank shook him off and said anything.

“No reason,” Frank shrugged, quickly occupying himself with the iced drink the bartender had brought him. He took short sips, so that he had an excuse not to talk, but Gerard, of course, was stubborn as usual.

“You’re really into music, though,” Gerard persisted. “And you play guitar and you know so much shit, why not go for it?”

“Never wanted to,” Frank shrugged, pretending to peer over the many heads of people as if he could see the stage from where they were while he continuously took sips out of his drink.

“But why?”

“I just don’t want to be around people that much,” Frank finally said, bringing the cup to his lips and tipping it, easily swallowing the rest of his drink.

Gerard pursed his lips as he studied Frank, wondering why he would suddenly get reserved again. He thought the question was a simple one, but Frank was deflecting it like it was something more, which did nothing but make Gerard more curious.

“Want another drink?” Gerard asked, but didn’t wait for Frank to answer. He waved his hand to the bartender who brought Frank another.

They sat silently, Frank taking sips of his drink as he listened closely to the blaring music of the band still playing. Gerard still hadn’t finished his first beer, but was still curious about Frank’s sudden seclusion. He opened his mouth to pry the subject open, but Mikey interrupted them.

“Hey, guys,” he said. “Damn, Frank, you’re enjoying the free offer, huh?”

Mikey nodded towards the three empty drinks in front of Frank.

“Oh,” Frank said, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“It’s cool,” Mikey shrugged. “I’m just kidding. Get another.” Mikey called the bartender over and got them another round.

Frank just took the offer and chugged his drink down, ignoring the slight burn in the back of his throat with each drink that he added to his body. It had been awhile since he drank more than a casual bottle at home, so it was suddenly hard to resist.

“The band’s almost done, you guys should come meet them,” Mikey offered as the music began to die down.

“You should, Frank,” Gerard said, jumping off the bar stool, leaving his half empty drink. “The shit you were saying to me, I think it would help them.”

“Sure, I guess,” Frank shrugged, emptying his cup and jumping off the stool as well. He staggered a bit, his legs suddenly feeling too wobbly to carry his weight. He held his hands out until he reached a proper balance.

“Lightweight,” Gerard laughed.

“Fuck off,” Frank chuckled, feeling the effects of the drinks slowly sinking in. “You had, like, half a drink.”

“I could have ten, and still be more sober than you,” Gerard laughed, slinging an arm casually around Frank’s shoulders and guiding them through the maze of people.

Mikey led them to where the band would be exiting the stage and they all stood there, waiting. A girl came walking up to them, wrapping an arm around Mikey’s waist and nuzzling into his side.

“Oh, Gerard!” she exclaimed, not noticing the presence of the two other men with Mikey.

“Hey, Alicia,” Gerard greeted her. She left Mikey to give Gerard a quick hug.

“That doesn’t look like Blake to me,” Alicia joked, referring to the fact that Gerard only hugged her with one arm because the other was still resting on Frank’s shoulders.

Gerard forced out a fake laugh, growing a bit shaky at the mere mention of his boyfriend.

“This is Frank, my boss,” he said casually.

“I figured you weren’t a two-timer,” she laughed. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank shook her hand and she went back to Mikey, comfortably leaning her body into his. Gerard couldn’t help but feel a slight sting of jealousy as he watched them. They stood side by side, silent, but content with simply having their arms wrapped around each other. He missed that sort of unnecessary but ever so comforting affection. He realized, with his arm around Frank’s shoulder, that that was what he wanted. He didn’t even care with whom. He just wanted it back; that ability to run into someone’s arms, knowing they would hug you back; to shamelessly snuggle into that person’s side like they were a pillow created by God’s hands. Gerard pulled his arm off of Frank slowly, knowing that that type of affection would not be happening.

Frank, growing more and more lightheaded as the alcohol settled into his body, didn’t even notice that Gerard pulled his arm away—he hadn’t even noticed him put it there. He was simply standing there, waiting for the final song to end, his mind on nothing but the music.

The band eventually clambered down towards them, eagerly greeting Alicia who they were familiar with, and then being introduced to Mikey, Gerard, and Frank.

“What’d you think of our set?” the lead singer asked.

“You guys ever play live before?” Frank asked, his tongue a bit heavy and his words coming out with horrible annunciation.

“Only once before actually,” the lead singer answered.

“You guys are going somewhere for sure,” Frank nodded, his usually rigid frame becoming loose. “Do you have, like, a demo? If it’s good, I could sell a few copies at the record store I run.”

“No way!” the lead singer exclaimed. “That’s fucking awesome!”

“Whoa, you would do that?” Alicia asked, smiling at Frank.

“Yeah, Jersey’s got good music,” Frank shrugged. “People gotta hear it.”

“Damn, Alicia, where’d you meet his guy?” the lead singer said.

“It’s all Mikey,” she laughed.

“Uh, actually, it’s me!” Gerard said, smacking Mikey before he could take credit. “I work with Frank. He has a section dedicated to local music. He’s really into getting local bands some attention.”

“That’s awesome,” the lead singer nodded. “Thanks, man. Let us buy you some drinks as a thank you.”

“Sure,” Frank shrugged.

“You sure you didn’t already have enough, lightweight?” Gerard laughed as they followed the members of the band towards the bar.

Frank rolled his eyes playfully at Gerard and continued towards the bar. They had one round of beer before the lead singer suggested shots and everyone eagerly agreed.

Frank was able to get a hold of the demo before he got too drunk. He had Gerard keep it in his messenger back for safekeeping and they all downed a few shots.

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled, slamming the glass cup onto the bar. “It’s late. We gotta go, Gerrd.” His slurred speech made the vowels and r’s in Gerard’s name seem more difficult than usual.

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, not nearly as drunk as Frank. “Mikey, you got a ride? We gotta get going.”

“Yeah, I’ll leave with Alicia,” Mikey called back.

Frank went to get off the stool, but completely missed the ground, his depth perception thrown off balance. Gerard caught him by the elbows before he went face first to the ground.

“Fuck, you’re a horrible drunk,” Gerard laughed. He pulled Frank’s arm over his own shoulders, having to crouch down a little to adjust to the height difference.

Gerard somehow managed to get Frank out of the bar, his legs fumbling over air a few times.

“’m tired,” Frank groaned as Gerard practically hoisted him into his car.

“I know, we’re heading home,” Gerard grunted as he finally got Frank seated. “Are you sober enough to put on your seatbelt?”

“Maybe,” Frank sighed, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “But lazy…too lazy.”

“You’re fucking twenty six, holy shit, how are you this drunk already?” Gerard complained, leaning down to adjust the seat belt. He had to lean over Frank’s body as he buckled the seat belt in. He held his breath as his body was pressed up against Frank’s, trying not to get too lost in the moment that meant absolutely nothing to everyone else but him. He pulled away quickly and shut the door then got into the driver’s side.

The car ride wasn’t silent like it usually was, but for once, it wasn’t Gerard interrupting the silence.

“’m so tired,” Frank would mumble. “It’s dark…you drive so slow…’m thirsty, ugh…you’re driving, you drunk? I can drive…no, ‘m too lazy to drive.”

Gerard just smiled the entire drive to Frank’s apartment, completely entertained by Frank being a giggling, rambling drunk. It was by far the most hilarious thing he’d ever witnessed.

Once they arrived to the apartments, Gerard realized that getting Frank inside was another mission. They stumbled over the steps, Frank’s face coming dangerously close to the concrete. And when Gerard told Frank to get his keys out, Frank slumped down against the door and sat on the ground.

“I can sleep here,” Frank mumbled, letting his head fall back against the door.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Gerard muttered, bending over and looking through Frank’s pockets. Gerard cursed the inventor of jeans who decided to place pockets so close to the crotch—he cursed the creator of skinny jeans even more. He sighed, though, when he found nothing in the pockets.

“Back,” Frank said.

“Fucking hell,” Gerard groaned. “Get up, then.”

Frank mumbled something that was supposed to sound like, “No,” but sounded instead like a jumble of letters. Frank leaned over so that he basically lifted his ass cheek towards Gerard so that he could get his hand into the back pocket.

Gerard slapped a palm to his forehead. He never felt more awkward in his life as he stuck his hand into Frank’s back pocket, basically brushing his ass with his hand. He was mentally praying in gratitude to whatever higher power existed when his hand came in contact with the keys.

“Oh my God,” he sighed as he stood up and got the apartment door open. He wanted more than anything to get Frank inside and asleep and out of his sight. He had never been so tempted in his life to do… _anything._

He bent over and helped Frank up off the floor, having to almost carry him entirely. He got them in through the door, but Frank suddenly pushed off of him and stumbled clumsily to the kitchen.

“’m thirsty,” he mumbled. “Wanna drink?”

“You’ve had enough, Frank,” Gerard sighed. “I can’t handle you on much more…”

“’s fine,” he slurred, pulling the refrigerator door open. He almost flew back, his body too loose to handle the weight of the door as it flew open. He caught himself, though, and quickly leaned in for a bottle. He opened it and started chugging it down right away. Gerard just stared as Frank was guzzling the liquid down.

“Holy shit, Frank,” Gerard gasped. “Seriously, that’s enough!”

Gerard went to get the bottle away, but Frank jumped back, the bottle still pouring the beer into his mouth. He stumbled and fell on his ass. The bottle flew out of his hand, spilling on the front of his shirt, and then dropping to the ground where the glass shattered.

“Fuck, Frank!” Gerard exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“It broke,” Frank mumbled, staring at the glass. “I feel…sick.”

“A-are you gonna puke?” Gerard asked.

Frank nodded, holding a hand to his mouth.

“Oh, shit.” Gerard quickly pulled Frank off the ground, avoiding the broken glass, and practically flew to the bathroom.

Frank dropped to his knees and emptied his stomach into the toilet bowel, the burning sensation of every drink he downed tripling as it climbed right back up his throat. Gerard leaned over, tucking Frank’s hair behind his ears so that it was out of his face, and rubbing his back comfortingly.

Frank leaned back away from the toilet, gagging at the mere stench of its contents. He swiped the back of his hand over his mouth. Gerard flushed the toilet and wet a towel then knelt down next to Frank. Frank had his eyes shut tight and his head down, but Gerard lifted his chin up so that he could clean his face properly, wiping at his mouth, before tossing the towel aside.

“Come on, get your drunk ass to bed,” Gerard laughed, standing up and helping Frank up as well. Frank’s body was completely limp and Gerard would have thought he was sleeping except for the few mumbled words and curses and groans that escaped his lips.

Gerard made it into the room, Frank’s body collapsing into the bed and curling up into a ball. Gerard giggled at the childish sight, but then moved to help get Frank’s shoes off. He untied the shoe laces and slipped them off, his socks coming off with them, and tossed them on the ground. He then went to cover him with a blanket, but didn’t find one.

“Frank, where’s your blanket?” Gerard asked.

“Ngh,” was the grunt Gerard got in response.

He looked around the room, thinking it was on the floor or something.

“Seriously, where is it?” Gerard asked again, but not really directing it towards Frank.

“With you,” Frank answered, his voice slightly muffled by the pillow.

“That was your only blanket?” Gerard asked, recalling the comfortable and warm blanket he’d been sleeping with the past few nights. Frank’s reply came in the form of a snore. Gerard stared at Frank’s sleeping form. The blanket was such a small kind gesture, but it wouldn’t leave Gerard’s mind as he stood in Frank’s room. Gerard knew that Frank had already done so much for him: giving him the job, taking care of him, allowing him in his home, and it all meant so much to him. But that small gesture of giving him the only blanket he had when Jersey nights could get freezing cold meant more than all of it combined. By doing that, Gerard felt as though Frank did more than what was required of him. Most people would think it was normal for Frank to take in a beaten Gerard, but then giving up his only blanket and choosing to allow himself to freeze instead of Gerard…that was so much more.

A small smile was on Gerard’s face while he went into the living room, took the blanket off the sofa, and took it back to Frank’s room, throwing it over Frank’s body. Frank quickly snuggled into it and Gerard’s smile grew.

The smile stayed there as he prepared himself for sleep. It stayed there even though he was shivering slightly on the sofa. It stayed there as his eyes began to drift shut and sleep slowly over took him. Though it faded from his face, it stayed in his mind, because it was the most genuine smile Gerard had smiled for a long while. It was not forced and it was not done to look ok in front of others. It was a true smile because Frank had gone above and beyond what was required of him. No matter how uncaring he seemed, Gerard allowed himself to indulge in the possibility that Frank actually cared more than he put on.


	13. Chapter 12: Corrupted Escape

Frank had a headache. He had a horrible, pounding headache. His throat stung and was extremely sore. The only positive thing about the morning was that he felt strangely warm. He opened his eyes and found that he had his blanket back. He shut his eyes again so that he could remember the night’s events.

It all came back to him slowly, thinking becoming a complete chore because of the constant throbbing of his head.

He threw the blanket off his body and dragged himself out of bed, feeling his limbs grow heavier with each movement. He went to walk out of his bedroom and tripped on one of his shoes. He stumbled forward slightly and the jolt of his head caused the ache to grow ten times worse. He clenched his eyes tight at the pain.

Once the pain subsided, he continued out of his room and into the living room, where he found Gerard still sleeping on the sofa. He was curled up into a ball, his hands tucked between his thighs for warmth, and his mouth hanging open.

Frank realized he’d given him his blanket back. He looked at the time and saw that he was awake two hours ahead of time. He dragged his body back to his room and pulled his blanket, which suddenly felt like the heaviest thing in the world, off his bed. He took it out to the living room and gently placed it over Gerard, whose sleeping body easily eased into the warmth of the blanket.

Frank knew the living room was a lot colder than his bedroom so it would be worse for Gerard to stay without a blanket than him—or so he reasoned with himself. He went back to his room and curled up on the bed, sleep quickly overcoming him.

About an hour and a half later, Gerard began to stir. He stretched before he opened his eyes and realized he had a blanket on top of him. He blinked his eyes open slowly and looked down and saw that the blanket he had left on Frank was now on him. He scratched his head at first, thinking he’d dreamt up the previous night, but then realization hit him slowly. He definitely had not been dreaming and Frank actually gave the blanket back.

Even early in the morning, just seconds after waking up, Gerard felt himself swell up with feelings of gratitude. His eyes stung as tears filled them, but he quickly blinked them back.

“Such a fucking pansy,” he mumbled to himself, sitting up and holding the blanket close to himself. He was so foreign to this type of genuine care and affection. Coming from Frank was the last place he thought he would find it.

He just sat there, holding the blanket against his body for a while. He was alright with this. He desperately wanted affection in the most obvious of ways, but the subtle caring and affection that Frank showed was good to Gerard. It was still comforting, and oddly enough, even more comforting because of the fact that it came from Frank, who was typically a shell void of emotion.

Gerard sighed happily and stood up, wrapping the blanket around himself like a child, while he shuffled over to Frank’s room to check on him. He figured he’d have a horrible hangover.

Frank was curled up on his bed, just like Gerard had been earlier. When Gerard got closer to the bed, he poked Frank’s arm. Frank stirred a little, but stayed asleep.

“Frank,” Gerard whispered.

Frank grunted and rolled over, leaving his back to face Gerard. Gerard smiled and unwrapped the blanket from himself, putting it back over Frank, who was still deep in his sleep. Once again, that genuine smile lit up Gerard’s face and stayed with him the entire morning.

He went into the kitchen and got the coffee started, knowing Frank would need that desperately. He also opted to keep the breakfast simple, since Frank’s appetite wouldn’t be that great. He took a mug of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese into Frank's room.

Frank was usually awake by this time, so Gerard placed the dish on Frank’s nightstand and shook his shoulder to wake him.

“Ungh, huh?” Frank mumbled, rolling over again so that he was now facing Gerard, his eyes still shut.

“Frank, wake up,” Gerard spoke softly.

Frank blinked his eyes open and groaned, pulling his hand up to his head.

“Fuck, my fucking head,” he whined.

“I brought you breakfast,” Gerard said. “You want some Aspirin or something?”

Frank nodded, his eyes still shut, and hand still clutched to his head. Gerard went to the bathroom to look through the medicine cabinet and Frank sat up in bed, his back against the headboard. He noticed that the blanket was on him again. He laughed lightly and shook his head. Gerard’s stubbornness was always present. He looked to his nightstand and saw the breakfast Gerard had prepared for him. He carefully lifted the dish to his lap and brought the warm cup of coffee to his lips.

Gerard walked back into the room with the Aspirin in hand. He gave him a couple pills and Frank quickly drank them down with the coffee.

“You look pretty bad,” Gerard noted.

“I feel worse,” Frank mumbled, picking up the bagel and taking a bite. “Thanks for the breakfast.”

“No problem,” Gerard shrugged, still smiling. “You know, you don’t do so well when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t usually get that bad,” Frank shrugged, letting his head fall back for a minute as it suddenly felt too heavy for his neck. “It’s been awhile.”

“I figured,” Gerard giggled. “Look, I got an idea.”

“Hm?”

“I mean I think it’s pretty obvious that you’re way too dead to work,” Gerard said, taking a seat at the foot of Frank’s bed. “How about you leave the store to me?”

Frank’s eyes snapped open and he lifted his head to look at Gerard. The movement was a bit quick and his temple began throbbing again.

“I know, I know,” Gerard sighed, “I’m just a temporary employee and all. And I know how much you love your store. But, come on, just trust me on this. Plus, really, you’ll be harming your business by going to work like that.”

Frank knew Gerard had good points, but he just couldn’t imagine leaving the store in anyone’s hands like that. That was a lot for him to entrust to a person.

“I don’t know,” Frank said. “I’ve never let anyone do that.”

“But you’ve also never had an employee before, right?”

Frank nodded.

“So you’ve never had someone sit with you from morning till closing time,” Gerard continued, “so that they knew everything about how to run the store.”

“True,” Frank agreed, sighing as he sensed defeat growing near.

“You can call me every hour or every five seconds to ask how it’s going,” Gerard suggested. “If you freak out, I’ll close the store and be back here.”

“Seriously, I don’t know about this,” Frank mumbled against the mug that was pressed against his lips.

“Please?” Gerard was practically begging. “Come on, I wanna prove I can handle it. I’m totally in better shape than you today anyways. I mean, remember how I was when I went to work hungover? Imagine you running the store like that. Bad news.”

“Fine,” Frank sighed, his head starting to ache from Gerard’s pressing voice. “Fine, fine, do it. Ugh, don’t fuck anything up, please.”

“Never!” Gerard chirped loudly and Frank groaned and held his head. “Oh, sorry,” Gerard laughed, lowering his voice. “I have, like, half an hour. I’ll make you something that you can heat up and eat later, okay?”

Frank felt like he was talking to his mother on a day he was staying home from school.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” he mumbled.

Gerard jumped off of the bed and hurried to the kitchen. He decided a simple pasta recipe would be the best and quickest to make, so he got started on that. Frank lay in bed, sipping his coffee and nibbling the edges of his bagel. He couldn’t believe he was being catered to by someone. He had allowed someone that far into his circle of trust; _he was trusting someone to run his store._ For some reason, though, no matter how strange it felt and anxious it made him, he could think of no complaints. He would have a day to himself to be able to get over his hangover; what was so bad about that?

Gerard finished making Frank’s lunch and left it in the fridge. He got dressed and went back to Frank’s room.

“Are the keys to the store with the keys to your house?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, remembering that Gerard still probably had his keys from last night. He looked down, wanting to forget his stupidity while drunk.

“I have them,” Gerard said. “Cause of last night.”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “I remember.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah, my head and throat are fucked,” Frank answered, “but not my memory.”

“Oh, ok,” Gerard nodded, grateful that he hadn’t done or said anything stupid to a drunken Frank. “Well, yeah, I’ll get going then.”

“Ok, thanks, again,” Frank said. “Call me if, you know, anything.”

Gerard nodded, gave him a smile and a wave, and then left to work...to Frank’s work. It would still take a while to sink in.

The day was surprisingly pleasant for both men. Everything at the store ran smoothly for Gerard. There wasn’t a swarm of customers or anything, so he handled things pretty well. Frank sat in his bed for most of the day, until he got hungry and left the warmth of his bed to see what Gerard had made for lunch. He opened the fridge and found the pasta that had his mouth watering already. He ate his lunch, his appetite going back to normal, and then sat on the sofa and watched TV for the rest of the day.

When closing time came, Gerard did exactly what Frank always did. He browsed the aisles, adjusting CD’s that looked out of place, making sure everything looked like it should, before shutting the lights and making his way out. When he got back to Frank’s apartment, he relished in the moment where he pulled out the keys like they were his own. He let himself pretend that this was his place as well as Frank’s. But he only pretended for a moment, not letting himself grow too fond of the image that he was convinced would never be true.

Gerard stopped before putting the key into the door when he heard something from inside. He inched closer to the door and pressed his ear against it, listening closely. It was a guitar and it definitely wasn’t coming out of any sort of speakers. He could hardly hear, though, but he knew it was Frank playing. He tried to listen, but there were too many pauses and the door was too much of a sound barrier, so he gave in and unlocked the door and walked in.

Frank was on the sofa, guitar in his lap as Gerard expected, and his hands stilled when Gerard entered.

“Hey,” Frank greeted him.

“Hey,” Gerard smiled, shutting the door behind him. “Hangover healed?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “How was work?”

“If your boss saw me, he’d fire you and let me run the place instead,” Gerard laughed. “That’s how it was.”

“You wish,” Frank scoffed, lifting his guitar off his lap to set it down.

“No, wait,” Gerard quickly said. “Come on, can’t I hear you play just a little?”

“You already know—” Frank began.

“I know, I know,” Gerard interrupted. “You don’t play for people, it’s a personal hobby. I won’t ask again. I just wanna hear a little. I’m really curious.”

“Has anyone ever told you how fucking stubborn you are?” Frank groaned, already holding the guitar like he was ready to play.

“Mmm, a few,” Gerard laughed, taking a seat next to Frank. “Is that a yes?”

“Only cause you won’t shut up if I try to resist.”

“That’s still a yes, so I don’t mind,” Gerard shrugged and looked at Frank’s hands as they hovered over the strings.

“Well, fuck, I don’t know what to play,” Frank sighed, actually looking a bit nervous.

“Something you wrote,” Gerard suggested.

Frank pursed his lips as he stared down at the guitar, thinking for a moment. Gerard waited patiently until Frank straightened up and his fingers took their place over the proper frets. Frank shut his eyes as soon as he began to play. For a moment, Gerard didn’t even pay mind to the music being played because he was lost in the way Frank had lost himself. His eyes were shut, yet his focus was unfaltering. His hands moved accordingly and he bobbed his head with the beat, before stopping and allowing his knee to bounce up and down instead. His body swayed slightly like he just couldn’t help himself. Gerard finally focused on his hearing instead of his sight to hear that the song Frank was playing was beautiful.

Gerard knew he didn’t have an ear for good music like Frank did, but what he was hearing was definitely good. Everything pulled him, from the sound and the melody, to Frank’s way of playing like he was the only person in the room.

Frank had his eyes shut tight, hearing nothing but the sound of his guitar, feeling nothing but the strings and their vibrations against his hand. He forgot about where he was and that he was playing for another person for the first time. He simply played the song.

When he finished, he kept his eyes shut and his concentration was constant until the final note drew out to a close. Then he opened his eyes and it was like he came back from an alternate universe.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded awkwardly as if he was signaling that he was done.

“Wow,” Gerard said. “That was really, really good.”

“It’s alright,” Frank shrugged, not trying to be humble but just really not seeing the greatness of his playing.

“No, no it’s amazing,” Gerard interjected. “I mean, I know I don’t have this awesome thing for music like you, but damn, I can tell you that that was good. I’ve heard a lot of guitar players, and I haven’t heard anyone like you.”

“Really?” Frank couldn’t disguise the happiness in his voice. He never knew how good it would feel to know that someone else enjoyed his guitar playing.

“Yeah, I swear,” Gerard nodded surely. “You’re really amazing. You have to play some more of your songs for me.”

“Yeah, maybe I will,” Frank shrugged, looking down at his guitar so that he could avoid Gerard’s admiring gaze.

Frank had never played for anyone, nor had he planned to. It was simply an escape for him. He never showed his escape to people because he feared that it would be corrupted by the real world he lived in. He didn’t want people to ruin his escape. But, to his surprise, allowing some of the real world into his escape was actually reassuring. It somehow beautified it to hear someone other than himself compliment this other world of his. He wondered, though, if it was only Gerard that would keep his escape uncorrupted. Gerard had already proved to be an exception to many things; he may have been an exception to that as well.


	14. Chapter 13: Mean It

Frank’s night of sleep wasn’t just like any other night of sleep. Anytime he drifted awake, he found his blanket on him. He would sit up with the blanket, walk with it to the living room, and throw it on Gerard’s curled up body. Gerard was a light sleeper, so every time Frank did it, he would pretend to be asleep, and then take the blanket back. They continued their small battle for the entire night.

It was no longer even a kind gesture; it became a fight for dominance, to see who would win. Frank got frustrated when he woke up around dawn and found that the blanket wasn’t just on him, he was tightly tucked in.

Frank groaned and pulled the blanket off. He threw it across the room so that it crumpled up on the floor in the doorway. It was technically right between Gerard and Frank; that was enough for Frank. He considered it a draw and slept without the blanket.

When Gerard woke up in the morning, he smiled, pleased to see that the blanket hadn’t made its way back to him, but then when he sat up, he saw it laying on the floor. He couldn’t help but laugh at the result of their blanket war. They’d found a neutral ground. Gerard had no complaints. He enjoyed it, the sharing of events, the creation of memories; it implanted that genuine smile onto his face.

When Frank woke up, he stepped over the blanket like it wasn’t even there. He and Gerard continued their morning without bringing up their small war; no one wanted to admit defeat. Plus, Frank hated to think that he had begun to adopt some of Gerard’s stubborn nature.

They had breakfast, Gerard making waffles for the two of them, and then they headed to work.

“Are we gonna discuss who won?” Gerard asked on the car ride to work, a small smirk on his face.

Frank had his elbow propped up on the door and casually rested his mouth against his hand, trying to subtly hide the grin that was spreading across his face. He shrugged and stared out the window.

“I think I won,” Gerard said and Frank stayed silent. “Your silence admits defeat.”

“Fuck you,” Frank finally spoke, the smile not evident on his face, but definitely in his voice. “You’re the most stubborn fucker I’ve ever met.”

“That also admits defeat,” Gerard laughed, pulling up in front of the record store.

“You wish,” Frank scoffed, getting out of the car and Gerard followed.

“So,” Gerard said, leaning against the window as Frank opened the door. “That means the battle continues.”

“I guess so,” Frank shrugged, opening the door and stepping in, Gerard following him again.

Their day at work was the usual, mostly eventless. Gerard got a call from Mikey at one point.

“Hey, Mikes,” he answered quietly as Frank scanned a customer’s purchase.

“Hey, G, Frank’s into local bands, right?” Mikey asked, always getting straight to his point without pointless small talk. Gerard made a mental note that would probably be something Frank would like about Mikey.

“Yeah.”

“There’s a pretty good band playing tonight,” Mikey explained. “I think they’re good and Frank should go to local gigs and shit if he’s into getting local bands attention. Not all good bands are signed to local record labels and have CD’s out.”

“True,” Gerard nodded. “I’ll ask him and let you know. Do you need a ride or anything?”

“Nah, I got one.”

“Ok.” Gerard was about to say goodbye and hang up, but Mikey spoke again.

“G, have you talked to Blake?”

“No,” Gerard quickly said robotically.

“Sorry about Alicia bringing him up like that the other night,” Mikey sighed. “She doesn’t know, obviously.”

Gerard nodded, though Mikey couldn’t see him. He hated bringing up Blake. It made everything around him feel tense and suffocating.

“I mean, do I like tell her you guys are on a break or something?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard sighed. “Can we just not talk about this now?”

“Ok, that’s cool,” Mikey said. “But you can’t keep avoiding it, G.”

“Right, yeah, I gotta go work,” Gerard quickly said. Frank finished with the customer and eyed him strangely, obviously noticing Gerard fidgeting in his seat. “Bye, Mikey.”

“Alright, bye.”

“What’s up?” Frank asked after the customer left, cringing for just a second at his casual curiosity. It was still new to him.

“Oh, Mikey was saying there’s this good band he wants you to check out,” Gerard half-lied. “He said you’re missing out on bands cause they’re not all signed, ya know? And he said you might like these guys.”

“When?” Frank asked, skeptic about Gerard’s nervous behavior earlier, but choosing not to question it.

“Tonight.”

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, not wanting to be tempted into drinking again. He hated when he got drunk because it always left him completely open, breaking through his reclusive behavior.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Gerard said. “Mikey has good taste in music.”

“I know, but I don’t know I’m not into going out to bars and shit,” Frank shrugged.

“We can just go, see the band, meet them maybe, and leave,” Gerard suggested. “I mean how else are you gonna hear more new bands, ya know?”

“Good point,” Frank nodded. “I guess I’ll go for a little.”

“Awesome,” Gerard smiled and texted Mikey, letting him know they would be there.

Frank repeatedly told himself that he wouldn’t get drunk and make a fool of himself again. He couldn’t afford to, not with so many of his emotions already on the brink of release. He had so many feelings that he was keeping locked away, without exploration. He would rather keep it that way; keep whatever feelings he had out of both his and Gerard’s sight.

Before he knew it, closing time came and they were heading to the bar just like before. The band wasn’t as well-known as the one they saw before, so there was no line outside and they didn’t have to go through a bouncer. As soon as they got in, Mikey was easy to spot, his tall lanky frame making him stand out.

He waved them over to the front of the crowd, near the stage.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted. Gerard hugged his brother and Frank just awkwardly waved. “The band’s about to start.”

He pointed up at the stage where the members of the band were setting up.

“Pay attention to the guitarist,” Mikey said, pointing up at the man standing on the left side of the stage. He had fuzzy curly hair that was grown out and just looked like a brushed down afro. “Ray Toro. The guy is a genius on guitar.”

“The place isn’t packed like before,” Frank noted.

“Yeah, they’re just getting started,” Mikey said. “But with this guitarist, they’ll take off.”

Frank nodded and looked up to the stage, waiting for them to start. Gerard also looked at the stage, keeping his ears open and focused. He wanted to pay close attention to the music like Frank had taught him; to look past the distortion of the amateur live performance.

With no introduction whatsoever, the band launched into their song, the guitarist, Ray, starting it off with a dramatic and fast-paced melody that simply blew Frank, Gerard, and Mikey away. Gerard didn’t even have to look past the distortion. The way the man played guitar was absolutely effortless. His long curly locks hung over his face, his feet spread, and he just shredded, not missing a note. The rest of the band joined in after a few seconds, but there was no doubt that Ray was the shining member of the band. Even the vocals were subpar, but the expertise flowing through Ray’s fingertips made everything seem like perfection.

“Damn,” Frank mumbled under his breath. He was truly amazed.

The band played a few songs, the skills of Ray never failing to amaze everyone. When they neared the end of their last song, Mikey nudged Gerard and Frank to follow him to the side of the stage like last time. They did, still able to enjoy the closing notes of Ray’s playing from there. When the band finished, they all walked right by Mikey, Gerard, and Frank, heading straight for the bar, but Ray stopped, recognizing Mikey.

“Mikey, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded. “This is my brother Gerard. And this is Frank, the guy I told you that runs a record store.”

“Oh, hey! Nice to meet you guys!”

The guitar player who reminded them strangely of Slash, with his afro-like hair, had a higher pitched voice than they expected, and lips that were fuller than seemed fit for his face.

“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked.

“Yeah, man, you were great,” Frank said. “You guys should have more people here just for your skills on the guitar.”

“Thanks,” Ray smiled.

“I told them to keep their eyes on you,” Mikey said. “Frank’s got a really good ear for music, I don’t think he would have missed you anyways.”

“Aw, guys, seriously thanks, it means a lot,” Ray nodded.

“I’m not as good as Frank at hearing good music,” Gerard said, “but even I can tell you’re good. I go to shows all the time with Mikey, and I’ve heard a lot of guitar players, but I don’t think I’ve heard anyone play the way you did.”

Ray smiled and took the compliment, being humble about it all, but Frank was suddenly uninterested in Ray. He was staring at Gerard and trying to figure out if he had heard him right. The compliment Gerard had just thrown at Ray was oddly and almost completely similar to the one he had given Frank about his guitar playing.

 _I mean, I know I don’t have this awesome thing for music like you, but damn, I can tell you that that was good. I’ve heard a lot of guitar players, and I haven’t heard anyone like you._ Frank remembered the compliment so clearly, because he had stupidly been extremely pleased by it. But now, he heard it being repeated almost word for word. Frank pulled his eyes away from Gerard and tried to shake off the anger he felt. He wasn’t supposed to be hurt or angry at stupid things like that. He wasn’t supposed to be emotionally attached enough to have expectations from anyone. He needed to drown it all out.

“I’m gonna go to the bar,” he said suddenly, not paying any mind to whatever conversation he had just interrupted. He made his way to the bar, quickly ordering the strongest drink that came to mind.

The bartender wasted no time in making it for him and he was soon sipping on his drink, hoping the alcohol would wash away those stupid emotions of his. He wasn’t used to this feeling of hurt and betrayal and he didn’t want to get used to it. Even more, he felt that it was such a trivial and stupid thing to be angry for.

“Hey, why’d you leave all of a sudden?” Gerard asked, taking a seat next to Frank. “Are you getting drunk again??”

Frank nodded, silently drinking more of his beverage.

“You’re gonna have a hangover again,” Gerard said.

“What’s the date tomorrow?” Frank asked.

“The 31st,” Gerard answered. “Why?”

“The boss lets me take a day off the last day of each month if I want,” Frank said plainly. “So, day off tomorrow.”

“Oh, ok,” Gerard nodded. He stared at Frank, who was staring ahead of him, emotionless, taking constant sips of his drink until he was almost done. He knew Frank was usually disconnected from things, but he had begun to come off of that. Gerard had thought he was actually developing a connection with him, even if it was just a friendly one. “Is something wrong, Frank?”

Frank shook his head, feeling slightly lightheaded already. He called the bartender over.

“Two shots of tequila,” he said, wanting to push his body to the limit, to empty his mind completely.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much already?” Gerard asked.

“Not enough,” Frank said, quickly taking the shots before Gerard could stop him. He felt the familiar burn in his throat, but he swallowed through it. The alcohol quickly took an effect on him, and he laid his head on the bar, unable to move. He underestimated the strength of the first drink he had asked for. His head felt heavier than the rest of his body and his forehead seemed glued to the cold bar beneath it.

“You’re already drunk,” Gerard sighed, knowing it would be a repeat of the night before. “So much for not liking going to bars and shit. Stay here.”

He had no reason to say it, Frank wouldn’t be moving by himself. Gerard looked for Mikey and Ray who were still hanging out by the stage, deeply engrossed in a conversation about the band Anthrax.

“Hey, guys, I gotta get going,” Gerard said.

“Already?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah, Frank had some drink that fucked him up,” Gerard shrugged. “For everyone’s sake, including his, he needs to be home.”

“You guys should come out next time we have a show,” Ray said. “It would be cool to actually hang out.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Gerard nodded. “We all gotta hear more of your guitar playing and when Frank’s not drunk off his mind, you can talk more to him about some promotion at the store.”

“Cool, thanks so much.”

Gerard said his goodbyes and then walked back to Frank, who had his head up off the bar, but was still seated, swaying slightly from side to side.

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard said, pulling Frank off the stool. He stumbled on his step, but easily fell against Gerard, allowing himself to be guided out.

“I’m soooo fucked,” Frank muttered, a girlish giggle leaving his mouth. “Er you fucked??”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “Just you.”

“Yer…you should,” Frank mumbled, stumbling a bit, but Gerard managed to maintain his balance. He followed the same routine as the last time Frank was drunk, helping him into the car, buckling his seat belt, and then driving him home while Frank mumbled a few things. He was a lot more animated with the way he rambled this time.

“Aha ya know thurr’s this song that’s like,” he threw his hands loosely in the air, “is like so hard, I tried, like, playing it, but fuck,” he dropped his hands in his lap, “s’too hard.”

“I’m sure you can do it,” Gerard encouraged, like he was talking to a child.

“Noooo,” Frank shook his head, more times than necessary. “Yer, you, you should hear it…haha I sound bad.”

They finally arrived at Frank’s apartment, and Gerard, once again, followed the same routine, managing to get Frank into the house faster than last time, and without Frank stopping for another drink or to vomit.

Gerard had Frank’s arm around his shoulders and guided him into his room, practically heaving his body into bed. Frank’s arms lingered for a few moments around Gerard’s neck. Gerard’s face ended up right next to Frank’s and he held his breath, biting back the temptations he felt. Frank was so fucked up; Gerard could have done anything. He could have laid there with him, held him, or even kissed him, but he wouldn’t. He managed to resist and pull out of Frank’s grasp even though Frank’s warm breath was showering the side of his face. He took off Frank’s shoes and socks like last time, tossing them aside, and then picked up the blanket that was at the doorway and threw it over Frank’s body. His eyes were still open, though, and he was looking directly at Gerard.

“Yer a liar,” he mumbled.

“What?” Gerard asked. “Why am I a liar?”

“’Cause,” Frank sighed, turning on his side so that his back was facing Gerard. “’m sleepy. G’night.”

“Wait, wait,” Gerard quickly said, shaking Frank’s shoulder. “Why am I a liar?”

Frank sighed again and rolled back over, his eyes drooping and his body still loose and limp.

“Yer a liar,” he repeated, his speech slurred but understandable. “You told me I was a’best guitar player, and then you...you told Ray he was.” Gerard stared, suddenly recalling his repetition of words. “I don’ care, but don’ lie. Fake compliments…fake people…”

Gerard was silent for a few seconds, just staring right back into Frank’s hazy eyes. Frank had gotten angry at him for that? Frank had actually cared enough to be upset at something like that? All the thoughts seemed to halt without processing. It seemed so…not Frank.

“Did you…did you actually get drunk because of that?” Gerard asked, setting his assumptions high.

“Mmmm dunno,” Frank muttered. “A lil.”

“Frank,” Gerard sighed, feeling completely and utterly shocked, but more importantly guilty for making Frank feel that way. “I know I said the same things to you guys, but your styles are so different. His playing is more like metal and yours is definitely punk. You’re the best at what you do and he’s the best at what he does.”

“You know lot ‘bout music,” Frank sighed, his eyes drooping shut.

“I learn from you,” Gerard shrugged, smiling slightly.

“You mean it?” Frank asked, his eyes still shut.

“Yeah, obviously, you know more about music than anyone I—”

“Nooo, no, no, guitar…me playing, you mean it?” he interrupted, his eyes still shut, and his tongue still heavily pronouncing each word.

“I do,” Gerard nodded. “I swear, I do.”

“Ok,” Frank sighed, and that sigh turned into a long, deep breath, and he was asleep, just like that.


	15. Chapter 14: Still Ill

When Frank woke up, his headache hit him harder than his last hangover. The simple task of opening his eyes caused the throbbing in his head to multiply. He would have kept them tightly shut except that there was a sudden churning in his stomach that would not go ignored and he knew what it meant. He jumped out of bed, stumbling towards the bathroom, but running straight into the door that was shut.

“Fuck,” he groaned, holding his head. He tried opening it, but it was locked. He could feel his bile ready to creep up his throat so he clamped a hand over his mouth, which was salivating heavily, making him even more nauseous. He brought a fist to the door, banging on it repeatedly until it finally swung open.

A shirtless Gerard appeared, but Frank didn’t take the time to notice who was even there. He pushed the body aside and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, the vomit burning past his throat and into the toilet.

Gerard walked over and played the same role he did last time, moving Frank’s hair out of his face, and rubbing his back through the small ordeal.

Frank hadn’t eaten much, so he found himself mostly dry heaving, his throat burning even more with the acid that came out of it. He spat into the toilet, disgusted by the taste in his mouth and fell back on his ass, resting his back against the wall.

“Fuck,” he sighed, swiping at his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw Gerard standing next to him, a towel wrapped firmly around his hip. “Why are you naked?”

“Uh, I was gonna shower before you came in,” Gerard said.

Frank wiped a hand over his eyes, having managed to induce a few tears while gagging into the toilet. Now that his vision cleared, he got a better look at Gerard. His eyes lingered slightly on a few red marks scattered over Gerard’s torso, a constant reminder of whatever abuse he had been put through. The bruise he had from the night Frank had taken him was fading, but still bright against his pale skin. Frank quickly averted his eyes when he noticed that Gerard’s towel was sliding lower and lower, barely leaving anything to the imagination.

Gerard felt self-conscious due to Frank’s stare, more aware than usual of the marks on his body. He wondered if he should leave the bathroom, but instead of doing anything, just stood there awkwardly.

“I’ll, uh, go,” Frank muttered. He stood up, holding his head the entire time because the room seemed to spin with every movement he made. “Fuck, what did I drink last night?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He flushed the toilet and quickly made his way out, shutting the door behind him.

Gerard let out the deep breath he’d been holding. He didn’t even know why he’d held his breath, suddenly nervous around a hungover Frank. It possibly had something to do with what the drunken Frank had revealed to him the night before.

Gerard hung his towel on the shower door and climbed in, turning the water on right away, unfazed by the cold spray that hit him before the water warmed up.

Gerard had spent the whole night pondering Frank’s small confession. He tried not to overthink it, but of course, he failed. Rather than take it as a simple moment, Gerard’s mind managed to pull out so many possibilities. His mind quickly labeled Frank’s action as jealousy, and then began to wonder if it was friendly jealousy or so much more. Gerard hoped for the latter; he wanted it more than anything. Yet, no matter how much he wanted it, he knew it wouldn’t happen. Frank couldn’t be gay. He would always remember Frank telling him he didn’t like gay people, so of course he wouldn’t be gay. It had to be friendly, and nothing else, yet Gerard’s heart still hoped…

By the time he got out of the shower, he’d managed to drive his useless hopes to the back of his mind, and was now simply wondering if Frank would acknowledge what he had said to Gerard, or if he even remembered it. Last time, Frank’s memory was still intact, so Gerard was pretty sure he still remembered things clearly.

Gerard scrubbed the towel into his hair, drying it haphazardly, and then wrapped it around his hips. He walked out of the bathroom and into the living room. He glanced towards Frank’s room, which was closed, and then quickly pulled on his boxers, and then the rest of his clothes.

Frank was in his room, laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The events of the night before had practically bombarded him the moment he left the bathroom. He remembered his stupid confession and hated himself for getting so drunk that he actually spilled his emotions that easily. What he got mad at was so stupid and unlike him—or at least the him he showed to people—and he easily exposed it to Gerard. By showing Gerard that he had gotten mad at such a small thing, he had basically revealed how much he actually cared for him. Frank showed off his sensitivity; he flaunted his weakness; he felt so breakable. He kept thinking that at any moment, now that Gerard knew what made Frank tick, he could easily use it against him. He kept telling himself that Gerard was nice and most likely didn’t have the heart to do something like that, but he still couldn’t allow himself to trust him fully. He hadn’t allowed himself to trust anyone because everyone had many sides to them. Gerard couldn’t be an exception.

Gerard, with his own string of infuriating thoughts, was in the kitchen. It was already too late to make Frank breakfast, so he poured Frank what was left of the coffee he had brewed earlier. He walked to the room and gently knocked on the door. He heard a small, “What?” from behind the door and took it as a sign to go in. Frank was laying in bed, and Gerard slowly shuffled over, feeling awkward as he stood in the same spot he had the night before when Frank had confronted him.

“I brought you coffee,” Gerard said, causing Frank to open his eyes, which had been tightly shut for a small while. “Drink it; it’ll help your throat.”

Frank silently scooted himself up in bed, and took the cup from Gerard, carefully and almost intricately avoiding their hands touching.

Gerard wasn’t stupid enough not to notice Frank’s awkward way of taking the cup, but he couldn’t bother himself to be mad or hurt by it. He knew Frank was probably embarrassed, though Gerard saw no reason for him to be. Gerard decided the only way to get rid of all the awkwardness would be to act completely normal.

“I’ll go get some Aspirin,” Gerard offered, without being asked. He went to the bathroom and brought back the medicine, two pills in hand. Gerard had to fight off a smirk as he saw Frank stare at the palm of his hand. He had no way of taking the pills without touching Gerard’s hand. “Stop being such a baby,” Gerard said, rolling his eyes. He grabbed Frank’s hand, turned his palm upward, and left the pills in it.

“I don’t like drinking pills,” Frank lied.

Gerard wasn’t entirely sure if Frank was lying or telling the truth; he decided to ignore it either way.

“Well, you need them,” Gerard countered. “So take them.”

Frank complied, tossing the pills into his mouth and chasing them down with his coffee.

“I’ll go start making lunch,” Gerard said.

“Lunch?” Frank asked.

“Yes, lunch, it’s already two.”

“Holy shit, I slept in that much?”

“Yeah, I came to check on you in the morning and you didn’t even flinch,” Gerard laughed. “You’re such a lightweight!”

Frank didn’t want any mention of his drinking the night before, because along with it came the mention of what he had said about Gerard and Ray, but seeing Gerard act completely normal, he figured he should do the same.

“Fuck off,” he sighed. “I had one drink other than the shots, and I don’t know what the fuck it was, but it fucked me up.”

“Obviously,” Gerard chuckled. “Now you know to actually ask what you’re drinking before you just chug it down like a dumb ass.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank rolled his eyes. “Too much talking, my head hurts.”

“Finish your coffee and then go shower,” Gerard said, taking on a mother-like tone. Frank simply grunted in response. “I’ll go start on lunch.”

Gerard spun around and left the room. “Oh, by the way,” he called from the door, “I won. You slept with the blanket all night.”

“Fucker,” Frank muttered, having no other comeback because there really was none.

Frank did as he was told, feeling a bit more comfortable, knowing that Gerard wouldn’t be bringing up what happened the night before.

When Frank finished showering, he emerged from the bathroom in casual sweats and a t-shirt. Gerard had just finished preparing veggie burgers for the two of them.

“Burgers?” Frank cringed, when he saw Gerard set their lunch on the coffee table.

“Veggie burgers,” Gerard laughed, “duh. Best you’ll ever taste, I promise.”

“Cocky,” Frank mumbled, inwardly knowing what Gerard said was probably true. He walked over to the TV to browse through his selection of DVD’s. “Got any favorite movies? Please don’t be something stupid, I won’t have it.”

“How do I know your taste isn’t stupid and you don’t have my favorite?” Gerard countered.

“Because my taste isn’t stupid,” Frank rolled his eyes at Gerard’s stubbornness; he had to be stubborn in the smallest situations. “Just name a favorite, stubborn ass hole.”

“Blade Runner,” Gerard laughed.

Frank blinked back at Gerard, pleasantly surprised at Gerard’s love of science fiction movies. He didn’t come across a lot of people who would choose Blade Runner as their favorite.

“I have that,” Frank nodded. “Your taste isn’t stupid.”

Gerard smiled proudly and Frank turned back to his DVD’s, putting Blade Runner in place and then going back to the sofa. Gerard scooted over, making room for Frank, and they had a pleasant lunch with Blade Runner replacing their usual silence.

They finished the movie long after they finished their lunch, and Frank took their plates into the kitchen, washing them. When he went back into the living room, Gerard was rummaging through his messenger bag. Frank walked back to his room, and took his iPod out and then walked back to the living room, where Gerard was now settled comfortably, his back against the armrest, his knees up, and his sketchpad in his lap. He smiled up at Frank and then drew his eyes back to his paper. Frank took a seat as well, plugging his headphones into his ears. The moment reminded him of their time at the music store, both engrossed in their two separate worlds.

Frank scrolled through his long selection of music, until he settled on “Still Ill” by the Smiths. This song in particular always gave him a nostalgic feeling, because he had listened to it during various points in his lifetime, and it seemed to mold perfectly around whatever situation he was in. The opening line, “I decree, today, that life is simply taking and not giving,” was enough to pull him in and he quickly got lost in the song. He leaned his elbow against the armrest and rested his cheek against his hand, staring ahead, not focused where he was looking. He was lost in his mind, and in the music.

Gerard was staring at his blank paper, allowing the images to flood through his mind before he actually began sketching. He liked to visualize whatever he wanted to draw down to every detail before he actually brought it to life before him. As he was thinking, his eyes wandered off of the paper and onto Frank who was sitting across from him on the same sofa. Even in the music store, he always loved looking at Frank when Frank was listening to music. He had such a hazy look in his eyes and his entire composure was relaxed. Gerard loved seeing Frank like that, completely encompassed by the thing he had the most passion for.

Watching Frank, he suddenly got an idea. He slid his foot across the sofa and nudged Frank’s foot. Frank snapped out of his musical haze and looked over to Gerard, pulling out one of his headphones.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Can I draw you?” Gerard asked, getting straight to the point.

“That’s, uh, kind of weird,” Frank admitted.

“I really like doing portraits,” Gerard explained. “It’s a challenge. I like drawing people when they’re focused on something they like.” Gerard sat up and scooted closer to Frank, flipping through his sketchbook. “See, here’s Mikey’s face while he was on his bass a while back.” He flipped to an impressive sketch of his brother’s face, his eyes downcast, and his entire expression obviously focused on something. “Here’s Alicia when she was with Mikey one time.” There was a sketch of his brother’s girlfriend, an obvious smile that wasn’t on her face, but in her eyes, gazing lovingly at the person she liked the most. “You love music, right? I think now is a perfect time.”

“Well, I guess,” Frank shrugged, being taken by the fact that it was about his music. “Do I have to, like, sit really still?”

“No,” Gerard smiled, happy that Frank agreed. “Just sit there and listen to your music like you always do. Forget I’m drawing.”

“This feels weird,” Frank said. “You’re gonna be staring at me.”

“Oh, come on,” Gerard whined, “you already agreed. No complaining.”

“Fine,” Frank rolled his eyes. Gerard scooted back against the sofa and Frank put his headphones back in, quickly losing himself in the song just as before. He was aware of Gerard’s eyes on him for just a few seconds, but he quickly managed to forget about it.

Gerard started out with a quick outline of Frank’s features that he knew just from visualizing his face. When he began adding more details, he scooted off the sofa and settled down on the coffee table, diagonal from Frank so that he could get a better look at his features.

Frank glanced at him awkwardly for a moment, being brought back to reality. Gerard was so engrossed in his drawing, though, that Frank forgot about the awkwardness, and stared back ahead.

Gerard looked closely at the way Frank’s eye brows were just slightly pulled together, forming the slightest of wrinkles between them. His lips were pressed tightly together, but they weren’t pressed into a line or into a pucker. The only sign of pressure was the slight tension that was obvious at the corners of his lips. Gerard added all the small details—Frank’s nose ring, lip ring, and his hair—and then focused solely on the eyes. He always left the eyes last; they were his favorite part because there was so much emotion in them.

The lighting from the window was causing a shadow to loom over Frank’s eyes, though, making it difficult for Gerard to see them as clearly as he would have liked. Automatically, he leaned over and gently placed his index finger on Frank’s jaw, turning his face slightly so that he was facing him more. Gerard felt Frank’s jaw tense beneath his finger, and he froze suddenly when Frank’s eyes met his, looking surprised by the sudden touch.

The feel of skin on Frank’s jaw while he was completely zoned out shocked him, to say the least, but then when he realized it was Gerard’s finger turning his face so that he was facing him, he fought to deny the warmth he felt in his face, and prayed with all his might that he hadn’t reddened at all. Gerard’s finger lingering there wasn’t making matters easier, either.

Gerard felt that familiar butterfly-like feeling in his stomach when he realized that not only had he touched Frank’s face, but they were closer than he had previously noticed. Gerard finally swiped his finger away, dropping it limply in his lap, and leaning back. Frank, still frozen, brought a hand up to his headphones to pull one of them out.

“Uh, the lighting,” Gerard mumbled nervously. “I couldn’t see your eyes clearly, so I, uh, had to move your face. Sorry.”

“I-It’s fine,” Frank mumbled, holding back a cringe at his stutter. “I mean, you could’ve just told me, or whatever, you know, it’s fine.” He didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Could you let the iPod play out loud?” Gerard asked, completely changing the subject, which Frank was relieved by. “I’d like to hear what you’re listening to while I draw your eyes, if you don’t mind.”

“No, sure, yeah, it’s cool,” Frank rambled again. The amount of times he’d cussed himself out mentally had broken records.

He unplugged his headphones from his iPod and then hit play, putting the volume to its max. He didn’t like the fact that the music wasn’t drowning out his sense of hearing like earlier.

“I like this song,” Gerard smiled, easily recognizing the Smiths blaring through the iPod speaker. “Perfect. Keep your eyes this way so I can see them clearly.”

Frank nodded, feeling extremely awkward. He was staring at Gerard at first, comforted by the sound of his pencil scratching against the paper, but every once in a while, Gerard’s eyes met his in the most intense gaze, and it was too much for Frank. He focused on part of the wall that was behind Gerard so that he didn’t have to look directly at him.

Gerard noticed the slight movement, but didn’t say anything about it. He continued his sketch, but noticed that Frank didn’t have the same hazy look in his eyes as before. He tried to remember it in his head, pausing for a moment as he visualized them.

“Why’d you stop?” Frank asked, noticing that Gerard was staring at the paper, but not drawing.

“Oh,” Gerard said, having forgotten Frank was still watching him. “Your, uh, eyes look different. You’re not as focused as earlier.”

“I guess it’s not the same without my headphones,” Frank shrugged, not wanting to admit that he was just completely thrown off by Gerard getting that closer to him earlier.

“Oh, ok, put them back on then,” Gerard suggested.

Frank nodded, actually grateful because that would be helpful. As strange as it may have sounded, he really did lose himself completely whenever he plugged his ears with a favorite song. He put his headphones back into his iPod and put them back in his ears, quickly being surrounded by the music.

It wasn’t long before he lost himself, focusing solely on the wall behind Gerard until it became nothing really. Gerard smiled when he saw that familiar expression take over Frank’s face. It was perfect. He quickly went to drawing his eyes before they were disrupted again. Luckily, he was able to finish, getting Frank's look down perfectly.

He stared down at the drawing, extremely happy with how it turned out. He looked back up at Frank, who was still staring off into space. It was a perfect interpretation of his hazily focused state. Gerard waved his hand in the air to catch Frank’s attention.

Frank snapped out of his far off world to look at Gerard who had an impossibly huge smile on his face, holding his sketchbook like a little child would be holding their new puppy.

“Done?” Frank asked, pulling out one of his headphones.

Gerard nodded excitedly. Frank was waiting for him to start jumping up and down with excitement; it would have suited the moment.

“Be honest,” Gerard said. Frank nodded and Gerard finally turned the sketch around.

Frank already knew Gerard was good, having seen his sketches of Mikey and Alicia, but he still didn’t know what to expect when it came to a sketch of himself. He didn’t even know what he was supposed to think of it, but when he saw the detailed sketch of his face, he couldn’t think anything but how amazing it was. He would have believed it was a photograph had Gerard added color. He had every detail drawn so perfectly. Frank had never seen himself when listening to music, but he thought that Gerard’s interpretation had to be spot-on.

“Wow,” was all Frank could think to say.

“You like it?” Gerard asked.

“It’s…wow,” Frank said again. “It’s fucking amazing.”

If Gerard’s smile had a voice, it would be an excited squeal. He couldn’t contain his joy, especially seeing how Frank looked at the drawing with complete and utter admiration.

“Damn,” Frank said. “You’re really fucking good.”

“I liked drawing your eyes,” Gerard said. “You always get this look in them when you listen to music. Like you’re zoned out, but not really. I can’t explain it. It’s perfect.”

Frank would have typically felt weird being analyzed so closely, but seeing as that was what it took to create the drawing, he didn’t mind at all.

“Can I see some of your other stuff?” Frank asked.

“Really?” Gerard asked. “You want to?”

Frank nodded.

“Um, do you like comics?” Gerard asked.

“Hell yeah,” Frank nodded.

Gerard’s smile grew and he sat up and went over to his messenger bag, pulling out a different sketchbook. He showed Frank various characters he had drawn and the different stories they belonged to. He liked creating “fucked up super heroes,” as he called them, giving them super powers, but making them more dysfunctional than the standard heroes found in most comic books. Frank couldn’t deny that the stories Gerard had created sounded interesting and unique; they were stories he would have loved to read and would have easily became a devoted fan of.

Gerard excitedly told Frank the many ideas he had. He was usually a bit more wary about spilling his ideas, but no one had shown such a genuine interest as Frank did. Maybe that was because with everyone else, he was never sure if they were being fake or not, but he knew Frank wouldn’t bother flattering him, so any compliments he gave him were genuine.

It reminded him of Blake. At first, Blake was nothing but kind words before he became harsher and more insulting; that made a compliment become such a rarity that he appreciated it more whenever it came, which Blake realized, using that factor to his advantage. He wondered if that was the reason he found himself attracted Frank. If Frank was just another version of Blake, except that Frank didn’t show any interest in him, though he still hoped for it. Maybe Gerard just couldn’t live his life without an abusive relationship. Maybe he was still ill for it.


	16. Chapter 15: Breaking Ties

“Frank!”

“What?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I wasn’t listening.”

“You do that a lot!”

“You talk a lot.”

“Touché. Well, fuck, I forgot what I asked you…”

Things were relatively back to normal for Frank and Gerard at work after their day off. Gerard was more talkative than usual since business was slightly slow, and Frank’s patience was wearing thinner and thinner. He had never felt so relieved when closing time finally came. He followed the normal routine of closing and then followed Gerard out to his car. While driving, Gerard took a different street that didn’t lead to Frank’s house, though.

“Where are you going?” Frank asked.

“I need to get something,” Gerard shrugged.

Frank didn’t pester him further. After a few minutes, they pulled up outside of Walmart and Gerard said, “Wait here,” before quickly jumping out of the car and making his way into the store. Frank waited patiently, leaving the radio on since Gerard hadn’t bothered to take the keys out of the ignition. Just about ten minutes later, Gerard jumped back into the car, a huge grin on his face and a bag in his hand.

“I got something,” Gerard said, tossing the bag into Frank’s lap.

“What?” Frank asked.

“Open it,” Gerard said, pulling out of the parking lot.

Frank took the plastic bag and pulled it open, finding a Star Wars blanket inside. Before he could even put anything together in his head to figure out why Gerard had bought a blanket, Gerard began explaining.

“You slept with the blanket next to the door because you’re too stubborn to admit defeat,” Gerard said. “So, this is a draw. I bought you this blanket. I use yours. It’s a tie.”

“You’re such a dumb ass,” Frank chuckled, pulling out the blanket to get a better look at it. He could see part of C-3PO and R2-D2 poking out from the way the blanket was folded, the Star Wars logo being the only thing visibly clear. “It had to be Star Wars if you bought it.”

“You like Star Wars! Plus, it was either that or Hello Kitty,” Gerard shrugged. “Now that I think about it, the pink would look good with your complexion…”

“You fucking wish,” Frank scoffed.

They got home, had a simple dinner of sandwiches, and then went to bed. Gerard cuddled up on the sofa with Frank’s blanket and Frank slept with his new and warm Star Wars blanket. As he was about to drift to sleep, it dawned on him that Gerard bought the blanket for him, which technically made it a gift. He hadn’t exactly thanked him and he deliberated whether to thank him now…

“Hey, asshole!” Frank called out, sitting up in bed. Adding asshole would make it less endearing—that was his justification.

“What a sweet nickname!” Gerard called back.

“I’m thanking you, asshole!” Frank yelled.

“For what?”

“For the blanket!”

Frank couldn’t see the huge smile that had spread across Gerard’s face. Every day he seemed to find more and more affectionate things about Frank which he previously thought to be nonexistent. He could have told Frank that technically he was just paying him back since he had his blanket, but he chose instead to call out a simple, “You’re welcome,” before they both silenced and went to sleep. Gerard slept with a smile on his face. So did Frank.

The next day Frank overslept slightly. When he woke up, he ran around the room, muttering, “Fuck,” repeatedly while getting dressed. It wasn’t as if he would actually be missing anything, but he was always punctual when it came to work. He hated being late.

When he ran into the living room, Gerard was already awake, pouring two cups of coffee.

“Morning,” Gerard greeted casually.

“We’re late!” Frank panted, having tired himself out just getting dressed.

“If we leave now, we’ll make it on time,” Gerard shrugged. He handed Frank one of the coffee mugs and a plastic plate and fork.

“What’s this?” Frank asked.

“I noticed you overslept,” Gerard said, taking his own cup of coffee and ushering Frank out of the house. “I ate breakfast and got yours ready so you could eat it to-go.”

All Frank could do was blink as Gerard led him out the door. Next thing he knew, he was in the car and eating the hash browns Gerard had made him.

“This is weird,” Frank mumbled through a mouthful.

“Oh, it doesn’t taste good?” Gerard tilted his head, while still keeping his eyes on the road.

“Oh, no, they taste really good,” Frank swallowed. “You, me being late, breakfast on the go. It’s weird.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, reaching over to their stereo and turning it up so that the subject was closed without further discussion.

Frank got about almost an hour of extra sleep without worrying about being late, and still got a delicious breakfast. What was weird, and what he didn’t want to admit, was that having Gerard as both an employee and roommate was proving to be a good thing. Frank was getting uncomfortably comfortable, as contradicting as that may have been. He wasn’t even sure if it was the fact that he got more sleep than usual, or how delicious the hash browns were, but it left him in good spirits.

Frank’s good mood accompanied him throughout the rest of the day, helping him easily get through Gerard’s constant rambling. Mikey stopped by near the end of the day, giving Frank’s ears a break.

“Mikey!” Gerard greeted, happily jumping out of his chair to hug his brother.

“Hey, Gerard,” Mikey said casually, hugging his brother back. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank put his hand up in his usual, awkward wave.

“How’s life been with my brother?” Mikey asked Frank, once Gerard had released him.

“Bearable,” Frank shrugged.

“Bearable?” Gerard scoffed. “You mean the most awesome thing ever!”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Frank rolled his eyes.

“I’m still looking for an apartment,” Mikey said. “I think I found one, though. I’m gonna go look at it tomorrow.”

Frank had actually forgotten that Gerard would be leaving soon to go stay with Mikey. Though he hated to admit it, he had grown accustomed to living and working with Gerard.

“Fuck, did you ever talk to your boss about getting me a job?” Gerard asked Mikey.

“Yeah, he said he’ll let me know if there’s any positions,” Mikey answered. “But I don’t know.”

Frank felt this strange pressure as the brothers engaged in casual conversation. He felt as if he was supposed to offer Gerard a longer job, or a longer stay at his apartment. The worst part about this pressure was that Frank wouldn’t have minded at all.

“Bathroom break,” Frank mumbled. “Gerard, watch the register.”

Gerard nodded and Frank quickly walked himself into the lounge and into the bathroom. It was his only way of escaping that pressure that he would have soon succumbed to.

“So, have you talked to Blake?” Mikey wasted no time in asking as soon as Frank left.

“No,” Gerard sighed.

“I told you, Gerard, you need to—”

“End it, I know,” Gerard nodded. “I fucking know.”

“Then?”

“Can we just drop it?”

“Gerard, you can’t keep—”

“Mikey, please,” Gerard interrupted. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fine,” Mikey sighed. “But get everything figured out.”

Gerard nodded silently when Frank walked into the room, perfectly aware of the sudden tension looming between the two brothers.

“Well, I’m meeting up with Ray, so I’ll get going,” Mikey announced. “I’ll text you with the details about the apartment tomorrow, Gerard. Thanks again for everything, Frank.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Frank shrugged, also aware of Gerard’s silence towards his brother.

Mikey waved and walked out of the store. Gerard pushed himself off the counter and went over to his chair, slumping down into it. He hated thinking about his relationship with Blake and where it stood. He would rather live in this bubble of believing it was simply nonexistent.

Frank noticed the sudden change in Gerard’s mood. He was, to say the least, surprised when he spoke without thinking.

“What’s wrong?”

The words left Frank’s mouth without him making the actual decision to ask Gerard.

“What do you mean?” Gerard asked, his eyes snapping up to meet Frank’s.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, looking down at the counter that looked rather appealing to his forehead. “You look, like, upset, or whatever.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Gerard lied, feeling suddenly nervous about Frank’s awareness of his mood. “It’s nothing, just Mikey being a dumb little brother.”

“Oh, ok,” Frank nodded, knowing it wasn’t the full truth, but not wanting to probe it any further.

To say that the next few moments were tense and extremely awkward would be an understatement. With unspoken words hanging in the air, it left Gerard and Frank with nothing else to say.

Closing time came and Frank stood up from his chair, stretching his arms high and popping his back that was sore from all the slouching. Gerard also stood up, adjusting his messenger bag over his shoulder.

The sound of the bell ringing above the door brought their attention to the person walking in to the store. Blake stood at the door, looking dismal. Gerard’s eyes widened, like they were ready to pop right out of their sockets. This was exactly the kind of reality shock he had wanted to avoid.

“B-Blake, what are you doing here?” Gerard asked, his voice shrunken and already sounding defeated.

“Can we talk, please? Alone?” Blake asked politely. The tone of his voice was completely different compared to the last time Frank heard him. He didn’t sound like the same person at all.

“Y-Yeah,” Gerard nodded, stepping away from his chair. Frank stared at him incredulously, and Gerard noticed. “Um, I’ll meet you outside, Blake, in a second.”

“Ok,” Blake nodded, turning around and leaving the store.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Frank wasted no time in asking.

“He wants to talk,” Gerard said simply.

“Last time you talked, he fucking beat you!” Frank hissed, stepping away from the counter and closer to Gerard.

“I-I know,” Gerard nodded, “but you heard him this time. He sounds different. He’s not gonna do anything.”

“How do you know?” Frank asked. “What if he fucking flips out?”

“I have to face him,” Gerard said, looking down, avoiding Frank’s eyes. He turned to walk towards the door, but Frank quickly grabbed his arm, keeping him near.

“You’re not fucking going out there, Gerard,” he said firmly.

Gerard gulped and finally looked up at Frank. Gerard’s vulnerable eyes looked right into Frank’s, shocking Frank into reality. He hadn’t realized how worked up he had gotten, having grabbed Gerard and standing only inches from him.

“Fine,” Frank sighed, releasing Gerard. “Go.”

“Frank, I—”

“Fucking go talk to him,” Frank spat. “But stay in front of the store where I can fucking see you.”

Gerard had no words, so he simply nodded and hurried out of the store. Blake was leaning against the wall that was next to the door and he smiled gently when he saw Gerard step out. Gerard was taken aback by the smile, but returned it politely.

Blake reached his hand out for Gerard’s, and after only a slightly hesitation, Gerard gave him his hand. Blake pulled him closer and spun them around so that Gerard’s back was against the wall.

“Baby,” Blake whispered softly, brushing his lips over Gerard’s, “I miss you.”

“I-I miss you, too,” Gerard said.

“So come back?” Blake offered, ghosting his lips over Gerard’s jaw.

“I don’t know,” Gerard sighed.

“I know I fucked up,” Blake said, pressing his lips to the side of Gerard’s neck. “I really fucked up, but I just miss you, baby. I don’t like living in that apartment alone. And I don’t like working without you. I just want you back.”

Gerard wasn’t weakened by the press of Blake’s warm lips to his neck, but he was weakened by the softness of his words and the sincerity of his voice.

“Do you really miss me that much?” Gerard asked, his voice shaky.

“So much,” Blake whispered, sending a gush of air down the crook of Gerard’s neck. “I miss waking up to you, I miss your cooking, I miss cuddling with you while watching a movie, I miss the way you read comics more than actually working at the store, and you know what I miss the most?”

“What?”

“Tasting you,” he mumbled, poking his tongue out and running it along the sensitive skin beneath Gerard’s ear.

Gerard shuddered beneath him. Blake thought it was out of pleasure, smirking as he continued to work his lips and tongue against Gerard, but it wasn’t pleasurable for Gerard. He shuddered out of pure fear and out of familiarity. It dawned on him then how many times he had been in that same position. He had lost count of how many times Blake had sweetly begged to have him back, and not long after, hurled negative words at him—if he was lucky, it was only words.

“B-Blake,” Gerard tried to speak, growing breathless with the sheer anxiety and panic he felt.

Blake hummed against his neck.

“I-I can’t do this,” Gerard spoke and Blake’s lips froze on the spot. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Blake pulled back to look at Gerard.

“What are you saying, G?”

“I’m saying,” Gerard sighed, closing his eyes. “I’m saying we need to stop. I need to stop. You…you keep hurting me and coming back and saying you won’t do it again, but then you do. I’ve had enough of that.”

“Are you being serious?” Blake gawked at him, pushing himself off of Gerard’s body, but still looming over him menacingly. “Are you fucking kidding me, Gerard? I come over here begging you to come back, and you give me this shit??”

“Blake, listen, I—”

“No, I will not fucking listen,” Blake hissed, pressing his palm firmly against the wall near Gerard’s face. “You fucking listen. You can’t leave me after all I’ve done for you. You can’t just end it like that. After all we’ve been through, G.”

Gerard’s resolve was growing weaker with every word Blake hurled at him.

“I know, and I’m sorry, but—”

“No!” Blake yelled. “You will not fucking leave me, Gerard. I helped you and I did everything for you, and _you’re_ gonna leave _me_?!”

With his final word, Blake brought a fist up to the window that was only inches from Gerard’s head, cracking it and alerting Frank that things had gone bad. Frank came running out of the store just as Blake was taking hold of the front of Gerard’s jacket.

“Hey!” Frank yelled, pushing Blake away from Gerard.

“Stay the fuck out of my business,” Blake hissed down to Frank, easily towering over him.

“This is my business, motherfucker,” Frank retorted, shoving Blake back. “You need to stay the fuck away from it.”

“Gerard!” Blake called. “Tell your boss you’re quitting so we can get the fuck out of here.”

Gerard gulped and looked back and forth between Frank and Blake. Blake had his expectant eyes on Gerard, and Frank’s furious eyes were locked on Blake. That moment where Gerard stared back and forth between Frank and Blake seemed to last an eternity, but he finally dropped his head, choosing not to respond to Blake. The gun was locked and loaded and this served as the pull on the trigger, sending a fist to meet with a face.

Gerard looked up, eyes wide, fearful for Frank, but shocked to see that it was Frank who had landed the first hit. Blake was stumbling back, and Frank didn’t give him the chance to gather himself. He grabbed two fistfuls of the front of Blake’s shirt and threw him to the ground, dropping on top of him. Blake threw his fists wildly and uncoordinatedly up at Frank, landing once on his jaw, but not enough to stop Frank’s fury from throwing back punches twice as hard.

Gerard was stunned and glued to the wall, watching as Frank took out all his anger on Blake. So many times Gerard had wished he was strong enough to return the pain—even if only the physical pain—that Blake had caused him to endure, and there was Frank doing it for him. Blake lay beneath Frank, taking punch after punch, Frank’s fist having broken the skin in a few spots.

“F-Frank,” Gerard found his voice, but it was barely audible. He peeled himself off the wall and tugged on Frank’s shoulders. “That’s enough…I think.”

Though Gerard admired Frank at that moment, he was almost fearful of him, the way his fury had transformed him into a completely different person. Frank didn’t move off of Blake, though. He shrugged Gerard’s grip off his shoulders and leaned down so that he was face to face with the bloody mess beneath him.

“You listen to me, motherfucker,” Frank spat, his hot breath causing the fresh wounds on Blake’s face to sting even more, “you’re fucking done with Gerard, alright?” Blake groaned, not really forming any actual words, and Frank quickly attached his hand to his throat. “I will fucking kill you if you come near him when he doesn’t want you to, you got that? He’s done with you. He’s with me now, so if you want him, you come to me. You got that?” Blake groaned again and Frank tightened his squeeze against his throat. “You fucking got that?!”

“Fuck,” Blake choked, his voice coming out in a sharp rasp. “Yes.”

Frank released his throat and pushed himself up off of Blake, who quickly curled up and held his face in his hands. Gerard looked down at him, knowing that he had been in that position so many times. Blake had beaten him into a whimpering pile of nothing so many times before. Yet his heart still felt guilty as he looked down on him. Frank saw this immediately, the way Gerard’s kind eyes examined Blake’s groaning body.

“Come on,” Frank huffed, grabbing Gerard’s arm and pulling him into the store. Gerard stood by the door while Frank went to get his keys and switch off the lights. He was muttering to himself the entire time. “Motherfucker…I have to fix that window…fuck, asshole…just coming here...I would have killed him.”

He was shaking his fists out as he walked to Gerard, who was still stunned into silence. Frank didn’t say anything to him. He simply gave the store one last run down, before walking out and locking the door, Gerard trailing behind him.

When they got back outside, Blake had managed to stand himself up and stumble a few steps away from the store. Frank kept his eyes off of him, focusing on locking the door, and then practically hauling Gerard to his car.

“I’ll drive,” Frank mumbled, shoving his hands into Gerard’s messenger bag for the car keys. Gerard didn’t even argue; he remained silent and unresponsive to everything, simply following Frank’s lead.

Once they were both in the car, Frank sped home, his knuckles aching slightly from both the repeated contact to Blake’s face and how tightly he was gripping to the steering wheel. Gerard was off in some other world the entire time.

Had Frank really broken things off with Blake for him? Had Frank done what he’d been too scared to do all along? Was this nauseating anxiety a sense of relief or fear of what comes next? And on top of that, had Frank actually told Blake that he and Gerard were together? Gerard’s head was swarming with questions, but he wanted the last one clarified the most. He let his head rest against the cool glass of the window, until they reached home. With the same silence, they both made their way up the stairs and into the apartment.

“I need a drink,” Gerard mumbled the moment they stepped into the apartment, breaking the silence.

“I need ice,” Frank said, following him into the kitchen.

Gerard pulled out a drink and then went back to the living room while Frank got the ice pack and wrapped it in a paper towel, pressing it to his knuckles. He went back to the living room, where Gerard was on the sofa, chugging down the bottle of beer like his life depended on it. Frank took a seat next to Gerard and Gerard stopped to look at him, placing the almost empty beer bottle on the table. He glanced down at the ice pressed between Frank’s knuckles, and took one of Frank’s hands in his. Frank stared down at Gerard, taken aback by the sudden touch. Gerard released Frank’s hand and took the ice pack from him. He used one hand to touch Frank’s face, gently tilting it, and leaning in to look closely at it. Frank held his breath the entire time, wondering what Gerard was doing, but then Gerard simply placed the ice pack on Frank’s jaw where Blake had managed to hit him.

“I think you hurt your jaw more,” Gerard said simply, one hand still resting on Frank’s face. He sighed and pulled away, slouching back into the sofa. Frank let out a subtle sigh of relief as well, finally releasing the breath he was holding. “Thanks, Frank.”

“It’s—”

“Nothing, I know,” Gerard interrupted him. “You always say that. But it’s something, Frank. It’s a lot.”

They were silent for a few minutes, Gerard staring ahead and Frank staring at him.

“I’m scared,” Gerard spoke, breaking the silence.

“Of what? He’s not gonna come after you again.”

“Not that,” Gerard sighed. “I just, I don’t know what happens now. I haven’t had a life without him for years.”

“You’re better off.”

“I know, I am, but I still don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Then learn,” Frank shrugged. Gerard looked up at him questioningly. “I know you forgot how to live life without that fucker, but now you have the chance to learn. I know you can be stupid and shit, but I don’t think you’re that stupid.”

Gerard couldn’t even understand how Frank’s words managed to surge through him and make him feel better, but they did. Even with his backhanded encouragement at the end, it managed to lift Gerard right up from his pessimistic slump.

“Thanks, Frank,” Gerard said again. “You think I’m really done with him?”

“As long as I’m around,” Frank muttered. His own words startled him slightly. He had just made a promise to Gerard; he hadn’t promised anything to anyone in so long, but it was too late to take it back. Instead, he reached for the bottle on the coffee table and drank down the beer Gerard had left. He moved the bottle from his lips with a pop, and set it back down on the coffee table.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke again and Frank looked at him; he had to get it out. “What did you mean by telling Blake that you and me…that I’m with you?”

 _Fuck,_ was on repeat in Frank’s train of thought. He remembered saying it, but he hadn’t remembered planning on saying it. He hadn’t thought about what it meant. And he sure as hell hadn’t thought about what he would tell Gerard about it.

“It’s ok, if, uh, you didn’t mean it,” Gerard quickly said. “I know you probably didn’t. I just wanted to make sure, you know? But I know you probably just said it to fuck with Blake, and whatever. So, yeah, whatever it meant, it’s cool.”

“Right,” was all Frank managed to say. For a while it was all he said, until he finally added, “I just wanted to make sure Blake stayed away. That’s it.”

 _That’s it,_ Gerard thought, but he couldn’t even complain about that being it. That was already more than enough; he had no right to hope for more…

“I get it,” Gerard forced a smile. “Thanks, again.”

“And again, it’s nothing,” Frank shrugged. “Get some sleep, alright? We gotta go early tomorrow so I can get some people to fix the window.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded. “Good night.”

“Night.”

Frank made his way out of the living room and into his bedroom, the ice pack still pressed tightly to his jaw. He dropped the ice pack on his nightstand, changed into his pajama pants and a T-shirt, and then crawled into bed and shut his eyes. He didn’t think about anything.

He didn’t think about the moment he stepped up to the window to get a good look at Gerard and Blake. The moment he saw Blake kissing Gerard’s lips, his face, his neck, and how at that moment, he felt more hatred for Blake than he thought possible. He didn’t think about how that hatred may have been tied with jealousy. And he dared not think what that jealousy was tied to. He wouldn’t think about the ties of his conflicting emotions; he’d just shut his eyes and do everything he could to break them.


	17. Chapter 16: Fleeting Moment

When Frank woke up the next day, he remained in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He wasn’t ready to step out and face Gerard. He thought things would be extremely awkward, so he would rather hide out in his room for as long as he could.

Sunlight was drifting through the windows and his flashing clock told him that he would be running late if he stayed in bed any longer. With a groan, he lifted himself out of bed and went into the living room, where Gerard was already awake, sketching and sipping on his coffee.

“Morning,” Gerard chirped cheerfully when he noticed Frank.

“Morning,” Frank said, pleasantly surprised that Gerard was being completely normal. Frank’s nose hadn’t woken up until that moment when they caught a delicious scent drifting out of the kitchen. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Biscuits,” Gerard answered. “They should be almost done.”

With that, he hopped off of the sofa and into the kitchen, Frank trailing behind him. Gerard pulled the oven open and the scent of crispy biscuits swarmed the kitchen. Frank was practically drooling already.

“They look ready,” Gerard said, pulling on an oven mitten and taking them out. “You should go get dressed while they cool down a bit.”

Frank nodded and trudged out of the kitchen, his sense of smell and taste being the only things fully awake. He hadn’t slept as soundly as he usually did because his mind wouldn’t allow it. His thoughts were buzzing around too loudly and busily to allow him to sleep peacefully. Thoughts that questioned his feelings, feelings that had affected his actions, and actions that had challenged everything he had lived by for years…all defied by the presence of Gerard in his life.

Frank splashed his face with cold water, wanting to rid himself of his mind’s ramblings. He had made a goal to break the emotional ties forming in his mind, not tie them all to one person. With his mind pestering him more than Gerard ever had, Frank managed to get dressed and ready for work.

Gerard was in the living room, having already taken a few biscuits out and coating the insides with jam. They ate their breakfast in a comfortable silence, the biscuits still warm and so fluffy they practically melted in Frank’s mouth.

Once they were done with their breakfast, they made their way to work, mostly in silence. Frank noticed Gerard’s silence, but didn’t allow himself to question it. He simply stared out the window the entire drive, and kept his mouth shut.

Gerard knew he was being overtly silent and was repeatedly ordering himself to be normal. He was weighed down with the disappointment he felt from the night before. When Frank told him that he hadn’t meant what he said to Blake, Gerard tried to tell himself that he should be content with all that Frank had given him; that worked for a short while. Gerard couldn’t deny that he wanted more with Frank and how his hopes had risen at the thought of Frank acknowledging them as being something more than friends. This disappointment stayed with him and hindered his ability to be normal around Frank.

When they got to work, Frank had Gerard watch the register while he made calls to get someone to go over and fix the window as soon as possible. Luckily, he would be able to get someone to go by and take measurements later in the day. He took his place behind the register and Gerard sat at his chair.

“Today is my last day,” Gerard spoke suddenly, breaking the silence he had maintained most of the morning.

“What?” Frank asked.

“Well I had two weeks,” Gerard said, “plus that extra day you gave me since you gave me a day off.”

“It’s already been that long?” Frank asked, surprised. He hadn’t actually been keeping count.

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, smiling at the fact that Frank hadn’t noticed. He allowed it to lift his mood enough so that he acted a bit more normal. “It passed by so fast.”

“It did,” Frank agreed. “Did you ever, uh, find a job?”

“Mikey’s working on it for me,” Gerard shrugged, “so I should have one soon.”

“Well, you know you’re still staying at my place,” Frank said slowly, practically bracing himself for each word that left his mouth. “It would be weird for you to still be living with me and not working. So, like, you can still work until you move out. If you want, or whatever.”

Gerard had to minimize the grin that wanted to take over his face, careful not to show his over excitement at the small gesture.

“You’re okay with that?” Gerard asked, the happiness evident in his voice.

“Yeah, I mean I’m gonna have to put up with you at home anyways,” Frank shrugged.

“You know you just want more of my awesomeness around so it can rub off on you, don’t you?” Gerard teased, thrown back into his comfortable state with the simple offer Frank had made him.

“Fuck off,” Frank scoffed. “You wish.”

“No,” Gerard shook his head, “I know.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but even he was suddenly relieved by the tension being drained from the room.

“But really, thanks,” Gerard said, sounding more serious. “As a thank you, I’ll make you an amazing dinner tonight when we get home.”

“You always do,” Frank noted.

“No, tonight’s will be extra special,” Gerard said, beaming at the compliment.

“Well I like food, so I’m fine with that,” Frank shrugged.

The rest of the day passed by smoothly and quickly. The window repairman came by and took measurements for the window, which he would bring a replacement for the following day. Closing time came and Gerard and Frank left the store. Gerard stopped by the local market for a few extra ingredients he would need for dinner before heading home.

“I’ll start right away,” Gerard said as soon as they walked through the door. “I’ll try to be fast.”

“It’s cool, take your time,” Frank shrugged, pulling his shoes and jacket off. He collapsed into the sofa while Gerard hurried into the kitchen and got dinner started.

Frank flipped aimlessly through the TV, settling on a random TV movie that he could catch onto the plotline of even though it was most likely already halfway through. By the time the film was almost over, the delicious smell of whatever Gerard was making had caught his attention. He couldn’t distract himself, or his stomach, with the TV, so he chose his guitar instead. It proved to be a better distraction as he strummed out a few melodies that had been floating around in his head.

Gerard, busy in the kitchen, could hear Frank’s guitar playing drift into the kitchen, soft but noticeable. Gerard was happy to know that Frank was comfortable enough playing even though he knew Gerard was there.

It didn’t take him much longer to finish. He scooped the delicious smelling pasta he had made into two separate plates and took them out to the living room, where an eager looking Frank looked up from his guitar.

“I’m starving,” he said, peering over Gerard’s hands to see the food. “That looks good.”

“Let me get the drinks,” Gerard said, setting the plates down. He went back into the kitchen and took the two glasses of drinks he had mixed and walked them out to Frank as well, handing him one.

“You made the drinks, too?” Frank asked, taking a quick sip of whatever it was Gerard had given him.

“Yup,” Gerard nodded proudly. “How is it?”

“Really good, actually,” Frank nodded, taking another sip. “What is it?”

“Vodka lemonade,” Gerard said, taking a sip of his drink as well. “And the dinner is my grandma’s famous vodka penne.”

“I like the vodka theme,” Frank nodded approvingly.

“You’re a lightweight,” Gerard laughed. “I don’t think you could handle vodka if it isn’t mixed or cooked with something.”

Frank took a sip of his drink and flipped Gerard off.

“Go choose a movie,” Frank said, pointing at the TV set in front of them.

Gerard browsed the movie selection quickly, before almost squealing when he saw the “Crow 2: City of Angels.” He wordlessly put the movie on and made his way back to the sofa, where Frank was already digging into his pasta and savoring every bite like he was in heaven.

“You actually have good taste in movies,” Frank mumbled through a mouthful when the movie finally started.

“You do, too,” Gerard nodded, smiling. “This is one of my favorites of all time.”

They ate their dinner and watched the movie. Frank finished his plate easily and Gerard told him there was enough for seconds in the kitchen, so he went in and got another plateful. He also grabbed the bottle of vodka he saw sitting on the counter.

“More vodka, too?” Gerard asked, noting the bottle in Frank’s hand.

“You barely used any for the pasta and the drink,” Frank shrugged. “The bottle is still full.”

“Are you sure you can handle that, short stuff?” Gerard teased him playfully.

“Good things come in small packages,” Frank shrugged, immediately cringing when he realized how absolutely lame he sounded.

Gerard burst into a fit of giggles.

“Small packages, huh?” Gerard raised his eye brow once he stopped laughing.

“Fuck you,” Frank groaned, pouring some of the vodka into his glass that was nearly empty.

Gerard let out a few more giggles before refocusing on the movie. Soon it was over, and as was their dinner. Frank was slumped back in the sofa, his hand on his stomach.

“I’m so fucking full,” he sighed.

“Glad you liked it,” Gerard smiled. He grabbed the bottle of vodka from the table and took a swig out of the bottle, welcoming the tasteless burn it brought with it, and chugging it down.

“Show off,” Frank muttered, when Gerard finally pulled the bottle from his lips.

“Jealous,” Gerard said.

“No,” Frank said, snatching the bottle from Gerard. He brought it to his own lips and quickly chugged down what he could of the burning alcohol. His throat ached, though, after a couple gulps, and he pulled the bottle away, coughing slightly.

“Still not jealous?” Gerard laughed.

“This is some strong shit,” Frank mumbled, looking at the bottle.

“Oh, whatever,” Gerard chuckled. “Excuses.”

He took the bottle from Frank and gulped down a bit more, until he felt the immediate buzz the drink began to give him. Everything, including his body, felt light. It was easy for Frank to pull the bottle from his fingers.

Frank brought the bottle to his lips, able to chug it down for a couple gulps longer than the first time. The burning in his throat was almost unbearable, so he set the bottle down, no longer set on proving anything to Gerard.

“Told you you were a lightweight,” Gerard giggled, his voice sounding shot, and his speech slightly slurred.

“You’re already fucking drunk,” Frank laughed. “What the fuck are you talking about!”

“I could still drink more than you,” Gerard shrugged, snatching the bottle from the table. Frank stared at him as he took a generous amount more.

“Fuck, you’re crazy,” Frank gaped, feeling his throat ache with just the thought of drinking that much.

“Experience,” Gerard giggled, tapping the bottle with his index finger.

Frank rolled his eyes and took the bottle from Gerard, originally planning on setting it down and away from Gerard. Gerard, however, pushed the bottle closer to Frank, urging him to drink. It took no words of persuasion, and Frank was easily bearing through the burning in his throat as more of the strong drink made its way down his throat.

“Fuck,” he choked out, his throat aching immediately. He set the bottle down on the table with a loud thud.

“You’re so weak,” Gerard laughed weakly.

“Fuck you,” Frank sighed, feeling the alcohol slowly settle into his system. Downing the vodka straight like that suddenly seemed very stupid. “Gotta clean…”

Frank stood up from the sofa, but then slowly sank down to the floor, his body feeling extremely lazy.

“Fuck that,” he sighed, resting his back against the bottom of the sofa. “’m lazy.”

“You’re so _drunk,_ ” Gerard laughed, nudging Frank’s side with his foot.

Frank, ticklish, giggled out a high pitched laugh that sounded so impossibly girly it made Gerard double over with laughter.

“Oh my God,” Gerard gasped, panting for air after laughing so hard.

“Wha’?” Frank cocked his head, not catching the joke.

“You laugh like a fucking girl!” Gerard bellowed.

“Fuck you!” Frank said, before joining in and laughing along. Their girlish laughs blended together, sounding uncannily alike. “You do, too!”

“True,” Gerard nodded, swiping at his eye, having laughed so hard he produced tears.

Their laughter slowly died down, the two of them catching their breath, and sighing in contentment when the random giggles had stopped spurting from their mouths.

“Y’know,” Gerard mumbled, settling back into the sofa, “I think that was the first time I actually heard you laugh.”

Frank didn’t have a reply, so he hummed in response and shut his eyes, feeling exhausted suddenly. He laid down on the floor, sprawling his body between the coffee table and sofa.

“’m tired,” he sighed.

“Me, too,” Gerard nodded, laying down on the sofa, sprawling his body comfortably similarly to Frank.

“You clean,” Frank demanded lazily, raising his hand up at Gerard.

“Why me? You do it,” Gerard countered, smacking Frank’s arm away, which fell back down to his chest without much effort.

“You cooked, you clean,” Frank argued.

“No,” Gerard chuckled, “no, that’s not how it works.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Frank sighed. “You’re sooo stubborn.”

Gerard just stared up at the ceiling, smiling hazily himself for no reason in particular. He tried to adjust himself on the sofa, to get more comfortable, but his drunken body managed to roll right off of it instead. He didn’t even fully grasp onto what was going on, until he landed on Frank, who let out a loud groan.

“Fuck,” Frank gasped, weakly pushing at Gerard’s shoulders. “Ow, too heavy.”

Gerard propped himself up, his elbows digging slightly into Frank’s chest.

“You’re comfy,” Gerard shrugged, nuzzling his face into Frank’s neck. Frank shivered as Gerard’s breath ran over his neck, and he gave up trying to move. His world was still spinning slightly, but his senses were definitely still intact, possibly more sensitive than before.

They lay there for a while, motionless. Gerard’s face was buried in Frank’s neck and Frank simply relished in the feeling of the warm breath cascading over his sensitive skin.

“Hey, Frank?” Gerard mumbled, sending more warm air against the already tingling skin of Frank’s neck.

“Huh?” Frank asked.

Gerard lifted his head up so that he was now looking at Frank, both of their eyes heavy and drunk.

“Thanks for everything,” Gerard said.

“S’cool,” Frank shrugged—or at least he attempted to shrug, too weighed down by Gerard to actually do it.

“No, like, you’ve done so much,” Gerard sighed. “I can’t ever thank you enough.”

Frank just nodded, staring at the man above him. There was a brief moment where the two of them thought absolutely nothing, and then there was another moment when their minds and bodies were flooded with the emotions they’d been carrying throughout the day, and the following moment consisted of Gerard leaning down and pressing his lips to Frank’s; in that moment, waves of pleasure, surpassing the effects of the alcohol, surged through both their bodies.

Even in his drunken state, Gerard was shocked when he felt Frank’s lips agree with his and move accordingly and was even more shocked when Frank opened his mouth slightly, taking Gerard’s bottom lip between his own. After the initial shock, Gerard quickly reacted and pushed into the kiss, sliding his tongue out to meet with Frank’s. A groan left the back of Frank’s throat and vibrated into Gerard’s mouth.

Gerard was first to pull away, growing breathless, and also losing himself in thoughts of whether or not the kiss was actually happening.

“Frank,” Gerard panted, “did you just—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank groaned, his body still tingling from the kiss. He needed more and his drunken brain wouldn’t question how he acquired it. “Don’t fucking ruin it.”

Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but what came out instead was a sudden moan as Frank had lifted his hips up to meet with Gerard’s. Frank threw his head back, continuously thrusting his hips up so that his slowly hardening crotch met with Gerard’s.

Gerard took to Frank’s advice and decided not to ruin it, losing himself in the body-heating pleasures he was feeling. He brought his lips down to the scorpion tattoo on Frank’s neck; it was practically screaming for attention from his tongue, which he gladly gave it.

Frank’s hands flew up to the back of Gerard’s head, his fingers getting lost in the mess of black hair.

“Fuck,” Frank panted. “Fucking…not enough.”

“You want more?” Gerard breathed, dragging his lips up to Frank’s jaw. His hand had slinked down to Frank’s crotch and gave him a tight squeeze that had Frank moaning loudly and tightening his grip on Gerard’s hair.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed, “yeah.”

Gerard continued groping Frank through his jeans, while still bringing their hips together and managing to give himself some much needed friction as well. Their lips and tongues met in an uncoordinated kiss that was coated with heavy breathing and mind-controlling lust.

“I’ll give you even more,” Gerard said after pulling their lips apart. He quickly dragged his body lower and lower, letting Frank know exactly what he was going to do without actually saying it.

“Crazy asshole,” Frank muttered, biting his lip to stifle his moan of pure anticipation.

Gerard fumbled slightly, struggling with the button and zipper on Frank’s jeans. It was hard enough with his fingers feeling loose and out of his control due to the alcohol in his system, but Frank’s hips constantly fidgeting beneath him weren’t helping matters either. He finally got them unfastened and pulled them down, licking his lips at the sight of Frank’s boner beneath his boxers. Gerard stroked him teasingly over the boxers and Frank threw his head back in pleasurable frustration.

Gerard stopped teasing, for the moment, and pulled Frank’s boxers down, leaving both his jeans and boxers wrapped snugly around his thighs.

“Not a small package at all,” Gerard giggled, brushing his fingers up the length of Frank’s cock, wanting to tease him for as long as he possibly could.

“Suck...” Frank groaned, his head still thrown back.

“Did you mean to say fuck?” Gerard chuckled, his mouth sending a breath over Frank’s already aching boner.

“No,” Frank moaned. “Fucking, ah, _suck_.”

Gerard didn’t say another word. He wrapped a firm fist around the base of Frank’s dick and took the head into his mouth, whirling his tongue around it.

Frank brought one arm up to his forehead and dug his teeth into his bottom lip. The other arm flailed in the air until his hand met with the coffee table and he clutched onto the edge, practically dragging the entire thing closer to him when he felt Gerard suck more of him into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Frank gasped.

Gerard had Frank almost entirely in his mouth, easily hollowing his cheeks and taking him in without hesitation. His tongue dragged against the underside of Frank’s dick, taking a brief moment to lap around the head, before he went down for more, repeating the process over and over again, sending sensations that rippled all the way down to Frank’s toes.

When Frank felt Gerard release his base, he almost choked on air knowing what was coming next, nearly falling apart with anticipation as he felt Gerard’s palms press against his hips, keeping him pinned to the ground.

“O-Oh, shit!” Frank choked out when Gerard flawlessly deep throated him, contorting his throat muscles around the head of his dick and not sputtering or pulling away for a second. “Fuck, yeah, oh fuck yeah.”

Frank couldn’t take much more as he felt the heat in his body accumulate dangerously close to his groin. Gerard pulled up slightly, giving his throat some space as he moaned around Frank’s dick and sucked roughly, pushing to get Frank closer to his finish.

Frank cried out a long and loud moan, his back arching up as he came, his orgasm lasting through the feeling of Gerard’s mouth swallowing his load. Once Frank’s body untensed, Gerard dragged his mouth off and licked at his lips when Frank looked down to meet his eyes.

“Holy fuck,” Frank sighed, panting heavily. “Holy fuck.”

Gerard smiled smugly at Frank’s exasperated expression. He pulled Frank’s boxers and jeans back on before crawling up so that he was face to face with Frank, who was still taking deep and labored breaths.

“You,” he panted, “are…really good…with your mouth...ya know?”

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled, leaning down for a brief kiss. “You’re not so bad yourself. You should show me more of it sometime.”

Frank hummed in agreement, his eyes drifting shut and his body going into a deep slumber. Gerard smiled down at the exhausted man below him. He reached over for the blanket that was thrown over the crouch, the blanket that had drifted back and forth between them, and let it settle over the two of them comfortably. He nuzzled his face into Frank’s neck and allowed sleep to take him over as well.

Gerard didn’t want to move or lose any of that moment. He may have been too drunk to actually do anything about his throbbing and neglected crotch, but he wasn’t too drunk to know that this moment was fleeting and he had to savor it.


	18. Chapter 17: Thrown Away

Frank woke up slowly the next day, his body sore and unwilling to come fully awake. He groaned at the aching in his neck and brought a hand up to his face, rubbing at his eyes until he could finally open them. The first thing that greeted him was the bottom of his sofa and he stared at it, confused, wondering why he was on his living room floor. Something moved against his stomach and he looked down and saw that an arm was slung over his body, a hand twitching lazily over his abdomen.

It took him a few seconds to turn over and face the person next to him. Gerard lay behind him, sleeping soundly and before Frank could wonder why they were both asleep on the ground, what took place the night before went crashing down on him. His eyes widened at the realization that it wasn’t a dream and his body shot up off the floor.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pacing the living room nervously, trying to piece together everything that happened. “Fucking fuck!”

Gerard stirred awake at the noise and looked up curiously at Frank, who was pacing back and forth, and angrily running his fingers through his hair and tugging slightly.

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled, unaware that Gerard was awake and watching him. “How could I be so fucking stupid…I’m so fucking stupid…what the fuck!”

Gerard flinched as Frank’s voice continued to rise higher and higher. He opened his mouth to ask what was going on, but then he remembered. He remembered all too clearly what had taken place on the floor he was now laying on. Frank’s moans were clearly imprinted into his memory, but he quickly shook them away as he watched Frank step all over the night with regret.

Gerard sat up and Frank came to an abrupt stop, his eyes locking with Gerard’s. The silent gaze dragged on, until Frank finally broke it, spinning around and giving Gerard his back.

“Fucking forget about it,” Frank spoke through gritted teeth. “Forget last night ever fucking happened. It didn’t fucking happen, alright??”

Frank spun around to face Gerard again. Gerard had absolutely nothing to say to him, so he just stared right back, trying not to allow his eyes to spell out his emotions. Frank didn’t wait for a confirmation; he didn’t want one. He quickly exited the living room, going straight for the bathroom.

Frank had let himself slip. He had never let himself slip like that. He had never let anyone close enough to allow for the possibility of a slip. He had extremely rare random hook-ups outside of bars with unnamed girls…but he had never allowed this side of him to be seen by anyone, even himself.

He stripped down to nothing and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water hit his body and not bothering to warm it up. The shock to his skin allowed him to fool himself into thinking he could rid his mind and body of the events that had taken place.

Gerard still sat in the living room, staring down at his lap, feeling as though he’d been used…again. This wasn’t something new to him, so he wondered why it hurt him so much. Blake had used him and tossed him aside so many times before, and he allowed it to happen every time. This time, he did it with Frank. Even though they were both drunk, Gerard knew Frank wouldn’t be okay with it in the morning, but he was so intent on doing it, on being that close to him, on feeling that physical affection he so desperately craved, that he did it anyways. He wasn’t crying, even though he felt hurt enough to cry, because he felt as though he brought it upon himself.

Not allowing his mind to wallow in self-pity, he stood up and cleaned off the coffee table, which was slightly skewed due to Frank grabbing on to it. Gerard cringed, unable to fight off the memories that were replaying in his head. He tried to distract himself by cleaning the dishes from the night before, scrubbing furiously at the food that had dried on most of them. His heart ached as he washed the memories down the drain. Everything had gone so well the night before until he did what he shouldn't have.

Gerard made the water warmer so that the plates would be easier to get clean. He turned the cold water off completely until the water was practically steaming hot. It scathed his hands and he hissed, pulling them back, but then continued scrubbing at the plates, the hot water burning onto his skin. He ignored the stinging pain that ran through his hands as he scrubbed harder and harder at the plates, the skin growing more sensitive. That pain seemed fitting at the time being, so he did nothing to stop it…

Frank came out a few minutes later, dressed and ready. He walked into the kitchen, keeping his gaze off of Gerard.

“I’ll finish,” he said simply.

Gerard didn’t say anything. He turned off the water and exited the kitchen so that he could get dressed and ready for work.

Frank could feel the hostility radiating off of Gerard, and he didn’t blame him. Frank knew how badly it must have felt for him to deny what happened so blatantly in front of Gerard. He thought it was best, though. If Gerard hated him, he would soon forget about him, and Frank wouldn’t have to worry about the only person who had managed to invade his personal bubble to that extent. It would be easier.

Gerard was in the bathroom, running cold water over his hands that were still panging with each heated throb. When he pulled them out from under the water, they were still slightly red and felt overly sensitive. He groaned at his stupidity and left the bathroom, going into the living room to get some clothes. He took what he needed and went back into the bathroom and changed.

By the time Gerard was done changing, Frank had also finished cleaning the kitchen. They walked out of the house together, keeping an unnatural distance from each other. When Gerard reached his car, Frank stopped.

“I can walk,” he mumbled, looking away and scratching the back of his neck.

Gerard was just about to walk around his car, but stopped. He turned to look at Frank. He had so many things to say to him. He wanted to scream and yell that if Frank was going to continue being an evasive asshole, then he would just find another place to stay. But he didn’t say anything. He literally bit his tongue, pressing it to the front of his teeth and pursing his lips. He rolled his eyes, opened his passenger door and left it open, then walked around to the driver’s seat, slamming the door loudly when he was settled.

Frank sighed, easily reading Gerard’s actions without words. He got in the car and they were off to work. Tension in the car was usually easily drowned out by music playing loudly, but no matter how loud Gerard raised the volume, nothing could cover up the tension between the two men.

As they were making a turn, Frank caught sight of Gerard’s reddened hands, different than his usual pale tone.

“Wh—” Frank started, but cut himself off, awkwardly clearing his throat and turning to look out the window.

Gerard only glanced at Frank, ignoring whatever it was he was going to say. As if the tension wasn’t already suffocating enough, once they get to work, it seemed to double. They took their usual stances, but Frank was almost _intricately_ careful not to actually speak to Gerard. Even when the window repairmen arrived with the replacement for the window, Frank didn’t even tell Gerard to watch the register. Frank just left, without giving so much as a glance to Gerard, and went outside. Gerard rolled his eyes and released a frustrated sigh, before dragging himself over to the register.

Later on, Frank even ordered a pizza delivery to the store, which Gerard never recalled Frank doing. At first he thought nothing of it, but then Gerard began to think that Frank probably didn’t want Gerard to make dinner when they got home, so he got a late lunch and early dinner to eat at work instead. For probably the millionth time, Gerard rolled his eyes at Frank’s stubborn stupidity. He was growing restless from it and his irritation was bubbling in his stomach. Typically, Gerard would take out whatever frustrations he had into his drawings, allowing them to be his emotional outlet, but his hands were hurting so much that he couldn’t even draw properly. He cursed himself for it, but a small area in the back of his mind had already pinned the blame onto Frank, no matter how irrational it seemed.

Frank wasn’t heartless enough not to share the pizza, but that did not mean it went without a hefty serving of awkwardness. He took a slice of pizza and then turned the open box towards Gerard, without actually saying anything. Gerard stared at the food and then at Frank, waiting for him to actually say something, but he didn’t; he wordlessly chewed on his pizza and ignored the gaze he could feel glued to his cheek. Gerard gave up on his useless glare and stood up from his chair, going over to get a couple slices for himself. They ate their lunch in a silent manner, the only sounds heard being the smacking of lips and occasional loud swallows.

The seconds, minutes, and hours seemed to purposely take their time passing on the day that the two men working were desperate for the day to escape into the night, so that they could escape to home and sleep the night away. Anything was better than the vexing atmosphere they were stuck in. When closing time finally arrived, they both had to control the temptation to release loud sighs of relief. The work day had ended and they had managed to not say a single word to one another.

Frank didn’t attempt to walk as he had in the morning. He simply got in the car and they drove home. When they stepped into the apartment, Frank was heading straight for his room when Gerard spoke.

“Why?”

Gerard hadn’t really wanted to say anything to Frank; he didn’t even want to actually ask that question, but it had been ricocheting around his mind and it seemed to bounce right out of his mouth without his permission.

Frank had frozen, his back still facing Gerard. He stood his ground for a while, debating whether or not he should actually turn, or even give Gerard an answer.

“Why what?” he asked, turning around. The way he spoke his words, and the way his body moved, was drenched with hesitation.

“Why do you wanna forget about it so much?” Gerard asked, his arms crossed, hugging his body.

The two men were across the room from each other, but Gerard felt so vulnerable and weak. Frank’s gaze, so void of _everything,_ was enough to make Gerard feel inferior, a feeling he was all too familiar with.

“Forget about what?” Frank asked, playing dumb.

Gerard’s inferiority quickly slipped off of him. His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at Frank.

“You know what,” Gerard said firmly, teeth tightly gritted.

There was a moment of silence when the tables turned, Frank being the one to feel inferior. He was now avoiding Gerard’s persistent gaze that was practically chasing his eyes around no matter where they darted. Frank finally gave in and looked directly at Gerard, trying not to cower from the intensity of the emotions in his eyes.

“Can’t you just fucking forget about it like I said?” Frank sighed.

“Why?” Gerard repeated.

“Because it was a fucking mistake!” Frank groaned, his hand flying to the back of his neck, scratching at it indignantly. “I was drunk!”

“So?” Gerard pushed. “You were drunk. Why not laugh it off as a drunk one night stand? Why is it such a fucking big deal to forget about it?”

“Because I’m not gay!”

Gerard almost took a step back, not because Frank charged at him or anything, but because those were the words he didn’t want to hear. Somewhere in his mess of a mind, Gerard knew that Frank wasn’t gay; Frank said he didn’t like gay people, so he had to be straight. Gerard had countered this thought with the fact that Frank was friends with Gerard even though he was gay, so Frank’s dislike of gay people was probably not completely truthful. But there it was. Gerard couldn’t understand the anger that suddenly filled him at that moment. He wasn’t angry at Frank for not being gay; he was angry at himself for expecting him to be. He was angry at himself for the disappointment that practically shook his body. But he took the anger out on Frank.

“You’re not gay?” Gerard scoffed, casually moving over to plop down onto the sofa. Once he was comfortable, his arms splayed across the back of the couch, he locked eyes with Frank again. “You _sounded_ pretty gay when I was sucking your dick last night, because, you know, that’s what happened.”

There were many things Frank could have said. So many things he could have shot back at Gerard, but the only thing he could manage was to swallow loudly and grit his teeth, tensing his jaw so much that it ached his cheeks.

“Fuck you, Gerard,” Frank finally spat. “Fuck. You.”

Frank didn’t take the time to gauge Gerard’s reaction, because he didn’t need one. He didn’t want one. He spun around and dashed into his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.  
Gerard, if Frank had stuck around to see, was shocked. He stared at the shut door, shocked by both what he said and Frank’s outburst that followed it. The anger with which Frank had spoken was unlike anything Gerard had ever heard from him. Gerard sighed, laying on his stomach on the sofa. He looked down at the floor and saw the blanket laying there. He shut his eyes when the images, the sounds, the tastes, came flooding back to him. He wished he could have civilly told Frank that he was simply hurt that Frank wanted to forget something Gerard wanted to remember. Instead, he chose the immature statement that achieved absolutely nothing. He reached down and brought the blanket on top of him, snuggling his cheek into the soft fabric, forcing his eyes to shut despite the thoughts that wanted to keep him up the entire night.

Frank was standing in his room, back resting against the door, emotions flooding through him. He wanted to thrash around his room, to destroy everything in his sight, but Gerard would hear. And Gerard couldn’t get any more of an idea of how angry Frank really was. After thudding the back of his head against the door a few times and cursing at himself, he finally crawled into bed and pulled his iPod out of his pocket. He didn’t care what played. He didn’t care. He just wanted his ears to be deafened by music so that the following morning there would be an incessant ringing that would hopefully drown out his thoughts. He put his iPod on shuffle, and got comfortable, not bothering to change.

The Star Wars blanket was laid out beneath him and he looked down at it for a few moments, before he pulled it out from underneath him and threw it onto the floor.

He wanted to throw it all away. Everything. He wanted to throw Gerard away. He wanted to throw away the emotions stinging through him. He wanted to throw away the _reason_ he was angry. He wasn’t angry at Gerard for saying what he said; he was angry for the way Gerard had said it so heartlessly, so insensitively, so uncaringly…

After a couple songs played, Frank let out a defeated sigh and got up from his bed. He bent over to pick up the blanket and then got back into bed, tucking it tightly against himself.


	19. Chapter 18: Fighting Emotions

When Frank woke up in the morning, he took his time again, not looking forward to another day of awkwardness, not to mention he was still furious at Gerard. He didn’t even know how he was supposed to act. He hadn’t been close enough to anyone to be angry at them.

He ran his hand over his face, rubbing the frustration and sleepiness out of his eyes, then sat up, tossing the Star Wars blanket off his body and onto the floor. He would deny his succumbing to the usage of the blanket for as long as he could. He changed into his usual clothes—t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie. He then went straight to the bathroom without taking a glance into the living room. He wasn’t awake enough to face Gerard just yet. He splashed his face with cold water, scrubbing furiously at his eyes, until his lids felt less heavy.

With a bracing deep breath, Frank looked to his reflection, mentally building up his usual rough exterior that wasn’t easily breakable with words. He had let it crack the night before, but he couldn’t let it show. Once he felt ready enough, he finally made his way out of the bathroom.

Frank ignored the slight hesitation in his step when he spotted Gerard on the couch, casually flipping through his sketchbook. Frank remembered that that was the sketchbook where Gerard kept all his comic ideas. Frank kept his eyes from lingering on it, instead taking note of the Starbucks cup resting on the coffee table. That was unusual. Frank also noticed that there was no delicious smell filling the house. It was…disappointing. But he wouldn’t allow himself to be disappointed. Gerard had no obligation to make him breakfast, no matter how much Frank liked it.

Gerard only took a quick motionless glance at Frank, keeping his focus on the sketchbook in front of him, still flipping through the pages, pondering over a few of them. Frank made his way to the kitchen, almost expecting to find something that Gerard had cooked earlier, but there was nothing. Frank set up his coffee machine, getting his coffee started, and deciding to remain in the kitchen until it was ready. He despised the thought that he was basically hiding out in his own home, but he didn’t even care how pathetic it seemed. He would rather stay in hiding then have to face a silent Gerard.

When Frank’s coffee was ready, he poured it into one of the plastic cups he had, putting one cup inside the other to keep it from burning his hand. Hot cup of coffee in hand, he finally made his way out into the living room, where Gerard promptly stood up and put his sketchbook into his bag. He adjusted it across his body, grabbed his Starbucks cup and keys from the table, and made his way out of the apartment, Frank following behind him.

Frank was going to try walking to work again, but before he could say or do anything, Gerard did what he had done the day before, opening the passenger door and leaving it open for him. Frank’s emotions were mixed about this gesture. Though he didn’t want to have to endure the car ride with Gerard, he also appreciated the hint of the usual, stubborn Gerard still showing.

Without a word, Frank got in the car and they were off. Frank expected the ride to be silent, but was surprised when Gerard spoke.

“So,” Gerard said, clearing his throat, “I thought about it, and I think you enjoyed it.”

Frank just snapped his eyes towards Gerard, who spoke casually, as if he was addressing the weather that morning. Frank’s fingers tightened slightly around the plastic cup in his hand and he dared not say anything, too fearful of what Gerard’s answer would be if Frank asked what he was talking about. Gerard, however, not needing the push from Frank to continue, went on anyways.

“You got, like, really mad and wouldn’t just laugh it off because of the fact that you actually enjoyed it so fucking much. And it pisses you off that you enjoyed it and you don’t understand it. That’s it, right?”

Frank dug his stubby fingernails slightly into the first layer of the plastic cup in his hand. He brought his other hand up to his mouth, resting it there, doing all he could to keep his mouth shut.

“Come on, Frank,” Gerard coaxed, still maintaining that casual tone that managed to infuriate Frank more than he thought possible. “I know you said you don’t like gay people, but I mean it’s a fucking blowjob, who wouldn’t enjoy it?”

“Could you shut the fuck up already?!” Frank burst, his loud voice booming through the car, being significantly different by tone and volume to Gerard’s. “I told you not to fucking bring it up anymore, so stop bringing it up!”

Gerard somehow managed to maintain his calm composure while Frank was fuming more than the coffee he held in his hand. Gerard tilted his head back in a half-nod, that wasn’t in agreement or affirmation, but almost like he had come to a realization. Frank muted his thoughts, not allowing himself to ponder what could be going through Gerard’s head.

Gerard’s head was just as much a mystery to himself as it was to Frank. Gerard had nodded his head in realization, but not in an actual discovery, more of a better understanding of how much of a mystery Frank was. All Gerard understood was how he had absolutely no understanding of Frank. He wanted to believe that Frank was in denial, but the more Frank denied him, the more he began to believe it.

Gerard didn’t bother to hide the frustrated sigh that escaped his lips, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Frank noted Gerard’s small loss of calm composure, catching a glimpse of how bothered Gerard really was. Gerard quickly covered up, though. The nonchalant expression was back on his face and Frank felt envious. Frank saw how easily Gerard covered up his emotions, and Frank recalled a time when that was him. Frank had practically made a profession out of masking his emotions, but now he was the one allowing his anger to obviously take over every word that left his lips.

Frank tried to regain that calm shell, calming his breaths, looking out the window, and he thought it was working, but he wasn’t fooling Gerard. Gerard took repeated glances at Frank, and easily noticed how tightly Frank’s fingers were still wound around the plastic cup, having already poked small holes through the outside layer of the two cups.

Both men were exposed, weak, and vulnerable to one another, but felt as though they had indestructible covers.

They maintained these faulty covers throughout their day at work, holding their silence. Frank didn’t even bother ordering a pizza as he had the day before; he had no appetite, so it never crossed his mind to eat.

When the long-awaited closing time came, both men couldn’t move from their stationed positions faster. Frank jumped out from behind the register, and Gerard sat up from his chair by the lounge. They were interrupted from their abrupt exit by someone entering the store. Gerard was quick to fake a smile at the sight of Mikey walking in to the store.

“Hey, Mikes,” Gerard greeted, but the lack of enthusiasm as he strode over and hugged his brother was evident.

“Hey, G,” Mikey replied, choosing not to question it. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank greeted with his usual silent wave, leaning against the counter. He was hoping the interaction between the brothers would be quick so he could get home soon.

“How’s work been going?” Mikey asked, directing the question at both men.

“Good,” Gerard lied. “Same as usual.”

“You sure you don’t wanna keep this job?” Mikey asked. “Or has Frank had enough of you already?”

Mikey was obviously joking, oblivious to the problems between the two men. The words that left his mouth, however, made both men stiffen for just a short moment before they quickly regained their composure. Frank let out a small, breathy chuckle, and Gerard smiled, smacking his brother’s arm.

“No one could ever get enough of me!” Gerard said, the perfection of his fake smile quite alarming.

“I do and I hardly see you,” Mikey shrugged, laughing. “But, I’m gonna have to deal with you. We get the keys to the apartment after tomorrow.”

“Oh, really?” Gerard asked, shocked by the sudden revelation. “That was fast.”

“My charm helps,” Mikey nodded, adjusting his glasses. “I got a job interview for you that day, too.”

Gerard and Frank were both surprised, to say the least. They had definitely had enough of the tension and the awkwardness, but they hadn’t expected them to actually end. Frank hadn’t actually thought of Gerard not working and living with him. He had forgotten the days when he wasn’t around Gerard all day every day.

“Thanks so much, Mikes,” Gerard nodded, still smiling.

“I’m your brother, I have to look out for your dumb ass,” Mikey joked. “You should thank Frank. He volunteered.”

“Right,” Gerard laughed, locking eyes with his brother so that he wouldn’t have to face Frank.

“Well, anyways, you guys wanna go to a gig tonight?” Mikey asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, and strolling down an aisle, glancing over the CD’s.

Gerard and Frank were forced to look at each other for a quick second, the tension, awkwardness, and unspoken words thickening the air between their locked eyes.

“Sure,” Gerard answered Mikey, finally pulling his eyes away from Frank.

“I’m tired,” Frank said, speaking for the first time since Mikey had entered. “You guys go ahead, though.”

“You sure, Frank?” Mikey asked. “The band isn’t new, I think they’re signed, but they’re really fucking good.”

“Yeah, next time,” Frank shrugged.

There was no insistence from Gerard like last time, so the subject matter was closed then. Frank would finally have a few moments to himself. He needed them, desperately.

The three men made their way out of the store after Frank did his run through of everything.

“Do you want a ride?” Gerard asked Frank, speaking to him for the first time since that morning.

“No,” Frank answered, “it’s cool.”

“You sure?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah, I used to walk all the time,” Frank shrugged. “It’s not far.”

Mikey and Gerard left without arguing further, and Frank suddenly had a reminder of his life before it was invaded by Gerard. There he was, walking home in the Jersey night air that he loved. There he was, walking up his apartment stairs without anyone else behind him. There he was, sitting in his living room, alone. It seemed as though the last time he had been his usual self had been years ago, but it hadn’t been that long at all.

Frank threw his hoodie off and laid down on the sofa, trying to decipher his feelings. He undoubtedly felt relief when he found out Gerard would be moving. That meant a huge weight off his shoulders. But, there was also something else panging at him. He kept trying to shake it off, but it was there, more annoying than Gerard when he was feeling extremely talkative. It was nostalgia for a person who hadn’t even left him yet. He shook off the emotions, and shut his eyes, allowing himself to drift off into a light sleep.

 

Gerard was on the way to the bar with Mikey, who hadn’t been oblivious at all; he had simply taken to silence until he was alone with Gerard.

“So what’s going on with you and Frank?” Mikey asked. “Shit was awkward as fuck and you’re, like…different.”

“I don’t know,” Gerard shrugged.

“You finally left Blake,” Mikey said, “yet you look miserable. That’s not really what’s supposed to happen.”

Gerard had informed his brother via text messages all that had taken place with Blake, so he was well aware of how much Frank had actually helped Gerard.

“Things are different,” Gerard sighed.

“With you after leaving Blake?” Mikey asked. “Or with you and Frank?”

“You’re so nosey, Mikes, holy shit,” Gerard groaned, not wanting to talk about what happened with Frank. He wouldn’t tell Mikey that much, no matter how much he trusted him.

“That’s another thing brothers are for,” Mikey said. “But, whatever, if you don’t wanna talk about it, it’s cool. Just figure shit out, Frank’s a cool guy. Not a lot of guys would have—”

“Done all of what Frank’s done for me, I know,” Gerard interrupted. He hated how predictable Mikey’s speeches were because of the fact that they were basically his conscience’s thoughts being spoken to him by someone other than himself.

Mikey nodded silently, turning the radio up, sensing his brother’s rising levels of discomfort.

 

Frank was woken up from his sleep by loud bangs against his front door. He blinked his eyes for a moment, until they focused and he looked to his watch, seeing that it was already past two in the morning.

“What the fuck…” he groaned, sitting up off the sofa and going towards the front door, where the knocking had ceased. He opened the door and a body practically tumbled inside, having been leaning on the door.

“Oops,” Gerard laughed, catching his step right before he ran straight into Frank. Gerard’s breath showered Frank’s face, the obvious scent of alcohol reeking off of him.

“You’re drunk,” Frank noted, stepping away to shut the door.

“You’re short!” Gerard laughed, swaying in place, having difficulty maintaining his footing. “You already know that, an’ I already know I’m drunk, so that’s…that’s fucking obvious, ya know?”

“Right,” Frank nodded, not in the mood to carry a pointless conversation with a drunk. “How’d you get home?”

“Drove, duh,” Gerard laughed, now leaning against the door. “Obvious shit, fucking, you keep saying obvious shit…I mean asking…fuck it, whatever.”

“You drove like this?” Frank asked. “You can’t even fucking stand.”

“It was, like, whatever,” Gerard shrugged, but even that movement was loose.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Frank mumbled.

“Frank,” Gerard laughed.

“What?”

“Guess what?”

“What?” Frank sighed, slowly losing his patience.

Gerard heaved himself off the wall, looking like he was going to fall flat on his face, but managing to stand somewhat straight. He took a few stumbles towards Frank, until they were just inches apart. Frank froze suddenly, extremely rigid compared to the drunken mess standing before him.

“You're talking to me,” Gerard laughed, bringing a finger up to his own chest, “when I’m drunk.”

“Now you’re saying obvious shit,” Frank rolled his eyes, taking a subtle step back, but Gerard countered it, taking a step forward, bringing them even closer.

“No, no,” Gerard shook his head, shaking it more times than necessary, the tips of his hair brushing lightly against Frank’s nose. “Like, listen, listen…right now, ‘m drunk.”

Frank was about to nod, but he didn’t dare make any movement being this close to a drunken Gerard.

“And, you, you're talking to me,” Gerard continued. “You weren’ talking t’me all day. Now ‘m drunk an’ you talk. Last time…” Gerard paused, giggling slightly. “I was drunk an’…an’ we kissed. An’ then after, we, you-you fucking know.”

There was a long silence, Gerard’s heavy breathing the only sound in the entire apartment. Frank was frozen. He didn’t even know why he was frozen, or why he couldn’t say or do anything. He just couldn’t.

“I was drunk,” Frank finally spoke.

“I know,” Gerard nodded, looking down at the small space between their bodies. “You don’ have to be every time…”

Gerard dragged his index finger up Frank’s arm, barely brushing the skin, but leaving a path of warmth up Frank’s entire arm. Gerard’s hand stopped at Frank’s shoulder, placing his palm over it. Frank’s rigid frame loosened at the touch. Gerard took a clumsy step back, pulling Frank with him. Frank couldn’t understand the force that had him comply with Gerard’s movements. But next thing he knew, Gerard had tumbled backwards onto the sofa, pulling Frank with him the entire way. Frank was leaning over Gerard’s body, holding himself up with the back of the sofa. Their bodies were so close. Frank knew if he let go, his entire body would be pressed up against Gerard’s like last time.

“I like it…I mean, I liked it,” Gerard mumbled, sliding his hand up to Frank’s neck, pulling his face closer. “Las’ time, I liked it…a lot. D’you?”

By the time Gerard spoke those words, he had Frank’s forehead pressed against his own, breathing his words out onto Frank’s lips. Frank clenched his eyes shut tight, taking in a deep and shaky breath. He couldn’t answer Gerard, but he also couldn’t move away from him and deny him everything…

Gerard pressed his lips to Frank’s cheek, only barely avoiding his lips. He didn’t kiss him, just kept his lips there.

“I wanted you t’like it,” Gerard mumbled against Frank’s face, sending a deep shudder through Frank’s body, up his spine, and just _everywhere._

Gerard dragged his lips close to Frank’s, but Frank snapped out of his trance when he felt his arm shaking against the back of the sofa, threatening to give out and send him down onto Gerard.

“Fuck,” Frank mumbled, pushing himself up and away from Gerard. “Fucking stop!”

Frank stood up off the sofa, but Gerard didn’t move from his position. His hand that was holding Frank to him, dropped onto his chest and he stared up at Frank with murky eyes, but there was nothing unclear about the emotion resonating in them: disappointment. He just stared up at Frank, like he had been ready for it.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed, “don’t fucking do that shit! That night was a mistake, Gerard. How many times do I have to tell you to just forget about it?”

“Not enough,” Gerard sighed, smirking slightly. His upset tone didn’t match the arrogant expression on his face. Something about it was unnerving to Frank. The contradiction was too much while he was already dealing with his own contradicting feelings.

Frank couldn’t handle being there anymore, around Gerard, after being that close. He finally stormed off to his room, slamming his door shut.

Gerard stared up at the ceiling, blinking back tears and then rolling on to his side so that he could drift into a comforting sleep. The emotions in his head fought against each other, each of them wanting to come on top. Disappointment, hurt, anger, resentment, affection, longing…they all fought a messy battle within Gerard’s drunken mind, making sleep a hard task to accomplish.

While Gerard’s emotions battled each other, Frank battled his own emotions. As he lay in bed, he tried to block out the many things storming through his mind. The guilt, the temptation, the longing, the pain...the pain he had felt when seeing Gerard look up at him so lifelessly, knowing his rejection had done that, was the hardest to fight. It was coming at him with full force and he was losing to it.


	20. Chapter 19: Last Night

Frank was at work alone. It had been awhile since he had done that. The atmosphere was strange, to say the least. Even though he and Gerard hadn’t exactly been striking up conversations, his lack of presence still sent a strange aura over the entire store.

Frank had woken up earlier that morning a couple minutes late and when he ran into the living room, Gerard was still fast asleep on the sofa. Frank had attempted to wake him up, poking his shoulder a few times, but Gerard just groaned and rolled over, mumbling something about a headache. Frank figured Gerard would have a horrible hangover anyways, so he just left, leaving a note on the table.

When Gerard woke up about an hour after Frank left, he didn’t realize he was late. He sat up on the sofa, rubbing his throbbing head. He looked towards Frank’s bedroom door and stared at it, dreading the moment Frank walked out because things would be even more awkward than they had been, which he didn’t even think was possible.

Gerard stretched his arms out above his aching head. There was a note on the coffee table. He leaned over and read it after rubbing the sleepy blurriness out of his eyes. It read: “Figured you had a hangover. Went to work. –Frank.”

Gerard almost sat back and just enjoyed his day off, but then something hit him and he realized he couldn’t skip this day of work. Even though a part of him wanted to since he had been drunk and stupid the night before, he just couldn’t skip this day. Without bothering to change, he got up, put on his shoes, and headed out the door, ignoring the pounding headache which was growing increasingly painful with each movement he made.

Frank was surprised when Gerard walked into the store, looking absolutely horrible. His hair was disheveled and his eyes resembled that of a drug addict—bloodshot red. His movements were rapid yet sluggish as he made his way to the counter.

“You’re hungover,” Frank said blankly. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Yeah, I did,” Gerard shrugged, standing in front of the counter, hands in his pockets. “Is there anything you need me to do?”

“You didn’t have to,” Frank repeated.

“I did,” Gerard also repeated. “It’s our last day working together. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh,” was all Frank could say in reply. He hadn’t actually thought of that. Gerard would be moving out tomorrow, which also meant he would no longer work with Frank. Frank never would have thought that day would actually come.

“So, is there something you need me to do?” Gerard asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Frank nodded, “if you can, we got a package from the local record company with some CD’s.” Frank bent down and picked up the small box from behind the counter, then handed it to Gerard, who took it without a word and went to the local bands section.

Frank sat back in his chair, not-so-subtly staring at Gerard while he completed his task. Things were horrible between the two of them, yet Gerard still insisted on being there on his last day. Frank couldn’t understand what he gained out of it if all Frank did was repeatedly damage whatever relationship they had.

Gerard could feel Frank’s eyes digging into the side of his face, but he chose to ignore it. He tried not to let his mind ponder the many things Frank could be thinking. The only thought Gerard allowed his mind to come up with was that Frank was probably tired of him and counting down the seconds until he would be rid of him.

While Gerard was finishing up the last few CD’s, Mikey made his way through the door.

“Hey, G,” he greeted, stopping next to his brother to glance at the CD’s. He leaned over and looked towards Frank. “Hey, Frank.”

Frank waved and decided to stop staring at Gerard since his brother was there.

“Hey, Mikey,” Gerard mumbled, too lazy to hug his brother as he usually did.

“You look horrible,” Mikey noted.

“Hangover,” Gerard mumbled, finishing up the last few CD’s and leaving his brother so that he could take a seat in his chair.

Frank was a bit surprised to see Gerard talking to his brother so offhandedly. He usually burst with excitement whenever he saw him enter the store. Mikey, however, was unfazed; he was used to his brother’s grumpiness after a night full of drinking.

Mikey grabbed a CD and headed over to the register.

“So you ready to be done with my brother?” Mikey joked, sliding the CD over to Frank.

Frank’s jaw tensed and he quickly forced a fake smile onto his face before Mikey had the chance to catch on to the awkwardness that quickly multiplied.

“You’re just excited to have me live with you,” Gerard intervened, succeeding in eliminating the tension.

“If excited means scared for my life, then yes,” Mikey nodded, smiling at Gerard. “Anyways, have you heard of this band, Frank?”

Frank was too busy trying to make the transaction go as fast as possible that he hadn’t stopped to look at what CD Mikey had picked up. It was an album by a band called Loaded Animus. Frank bit his lip, having heard of the band and not wanting to discuss them any further.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, scanning the CD and sliding it back to Mikey. “Gerard, was this in the stock you shelved today?”

Gerard peered up at them and Mikey held the CD up so he could see.

“Oh, yeah, they were,” Gerard answered, somewhat surprised that Frank was speaking to him. “They any good?”

“They’re ok,” Frank shrugged. “I didn’t know they were signed.”

“Yeah,” Mikey nodded, “they just got signed a little while ago. They’re pretty fucking good, actually. They might have a small gig in town soon; I heard it’s gonna be huge.”

“In town?” Frank asked, his throat suddenly extremely dry. “When?”

“Dunno,” Mikey shrugged. “You should come whenever they do. They usually have a lot of unsigned bands opening up for—”

“Nah, I’m good,” Frank interrupted, the words rushing quickly out of his mouth. Gerard and Mikey both eyed him strangely, but he managed to keep his eyes averted. He kept himself distracted by taking the money from Mikey and giving him his change.

The uncomfortable silence that had been growing too long to be interrupted was finally broken by the bell of the door chiming loudly. Hambone came strolling in, his face adorned with his usual grin.

“Frankie!” he belted out.

“Hey, Hambone,” Frank practically sighed in relief. Hambone was someone he could talk comfortably around; things were way too tense with just Gerard and Mikey.

“Hey, you’re in that one band!” Mikey exclaimed, easily recognizing Hambone. “Pencey Prep, right?”

“Yeah,” Hambone nodded proudly, the boastfulness of being recognized evident in his smile. “You been out to a show?”

“Yeah, you guys are really good,” Mikey said, shaking his hand. “I’m Mikey, Gerard’s brother.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hambone smiled. “You making friends, Frankie boy? I’m very proud of you.”

“Fuck off,” Frank rolled his eyes, a small smile forcing itself onto his face.

“Hey, Gerard,” Hambone greeted the hungover man sitting silently in his corner. “Shit, you look bad. Too much of Frank, huh?”

“Beer,” Gerard corrected. “I don’t know which is worse, though.”

Frank’s eye brow twitched. He could handle a joke, but the bitterness of Gerard’s tone made it clear that that was no joke.

“Ooooh!” Hambone practically sang out. “I like this guy. He’s a keeper, Frankie.”

“Nah, today’s my last day,” Gerard said, suddenly a lot more talkative. Frank tried not to stare at him, keeping his eyes on Hambone instead.

“Ah, Frankie is a people repellent,” Hambone nodded. “I totally understand.”

“Oh, fuck you, Hambone,” Frank scoffed. “I tried to repel you and you wouldn’t go away.”

“ _You_ kept coming back to my tattoo shop, Frankie,” Hambone shrugged. “Admit you loved me.”

“Your tattoos,” Frank shrugged. “That’s basically it.”

“He uses me for my ink,” Hambone sighed. “What a loving man.”

“As if he knows what love is,” Gerard muttered, but neither Hambone nor Mikey caught onto that because they’d drifted into a conversation about some other local bands. Only Frank’s ears caught the words and he finally lost the battle his eyes had waged and took a glance at Gerard. Gerard was staring right back at Frank and they were suddenly stuck in a stare that was too intense for comfort, but also much too intense to pull away from.

Unspoken words were swimming through the two men’s hazel eyes, but they were far too many for either of them to understand. It was like they were shouting out every single emotion all at once, leaving their words nothing but an incomprehensible mess. It was the most communication they had done since their drunken incident, yet not a word was said or understood.

“Yo, earth to Frankie!” Hambone’s voice infiltrated their wordless gaze that had drawn out too long for either man to calculate. Frank snapped back to reality, forcing his eyes away from Gerard and onto Hambone.

“What?” Frank asked.

“I was just telling Mikey how you would never listen to these guys,” Hambone said, holding up the CD Mikey had just purchased.

“Don’t like ‘em,” Frank quickly said.

“I’ve never heard him not give a band a chance,” Hambone said, talking to Mikey, “but when it comes to these guys, he won’t do it! I thought they would fucking suck cause of how much he didn’t like them, but they’re good! I don’t know what’s up his ass about them.”

“Shut the fuck up about them already,” Frank spat out, but it wasn’t in the usual light tone he used when addressing Hambone.

“Whoa, whoa,” Hambone said, putting his hands up in surrender, “I’m just messing with you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank mumbled, leaning against the counter. He had prayed for something to kill the awkward silence, but now he wanted it back more than anything.

“Well, hey, I gotta get going,” Hambone said, already edging back towards the door, “but I just wanted to come by and remind you guys that we gotta gig tomorrow. You should come, too, Mikey.”

“Me and Gerard are gonna be busy moving and stuff,” Mikey said, “but we’ll definitely try.”

“Awesome,” Hambone nodded, then pointed at Frank with a serious expression on his face. “And of course you’re coming, Frank.”

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, “I’ll see.”

“You better,” Hambone said. “It’s probably our last show here in a while, so you’re fucking coming.”

“I gotta get going, too,” Mikey said, following Hambone’s lead towards the door. “Hopefully see you guys tomorrow.”

“I’ll head out with you, man, I have one of our old demos in the car since you wanted it.”

“Awesome,” Mikey nodded.

Hambone and Mikey left, allowing the silence to quickly take over, settling in between the two men as it always did. It was uncomfortable, yet familiar, so neither of them questioned it.

A couple of hours passed, customers going in and out of the store. It was well past lunchtime and both men were hungry, but neither wanted to admit it, not wanting to be first to break the silence. Their stomachs ended the silence instead, taking turns grumbling.

“I’ll order lunch,” Frank said, giving in. “Pizza, I guess.”

“Wow, you can actually talk,” Gerard scoffed.

Frank ignored Gerard’s comment, silently reaching for the phone instead.

“Or not,” Gerard shrugged. “Guess it’s a one-time thing, huh? Seems like a pattern for you…”

Frank’s hand stopped midway of reaching for the phone, his entire body suddenly rendered incapable of movement, except for his throat that swallowed nervously. He had been waiting for Gerard’s outburst against him, even understood it, but was still shocked by it now that it had come. Every word that left Gerard’s mouth was seeping with hostility and it stripped Frank of any sort of response.

“I’m really fucking tired of this, you know?” Gerard sighed, standing out of his chair. “I don’t care that you’re not gay, I really don’t. If it was a drunk fucking mistake, fine, then it was, but you’re being _such_ a fucking _asshole_ about it!”

Gerard had no idea where the words were coming from or how he had mustered up the courage to say them, but now that the cap had been loosened, there was no way to keep the contents bottled away.

Gerard walked to the front of the counter, standing directly across from Frank and holding his eyes in an unwavering and gut-wrenching gaze.

“I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done, Frank, really fucking grateful,” Gerard continued, “and I was so happy that you were doing it all cause you were my friend, but now I don’t know what the fuck you are anymore. I get it, you’re not gay, so the blowjob meant nothing, fine! But it wasn’t my fucking fault! I didn’t force your fucking dick into my mouth! I didn’t force you to kiss me! It was your fault just as much as mine. But then after it happens, you fucking ignore me and I just…I don’t know what the fuck any of it means, Frank, I honestly don’t.

“Oh, and then Hambone comes in and you’re smiling like nothing ever happened. You’re suddenly _normal_ with him even though you’ve treated me like shit lately. I’ve been ignored and then I just sit here and watch you talk with him and it makes me feel so…fuck, I sound like a fucking teenage girl, shit!”

Gerard slammed his palms down on the counter and pulled his eyes away from Frank’s, directing them downwards.

“I just…I don’t know why I’m even fucking telling you all of this,” Gerard sighed, bringing a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “I guess I just wanted to get it all out before I leave. I know you’re happy to be done with me, I know you are, and you know what? I get it, totally understandable. But I just, I wanted to let all of this out. I’m gonna get us some pizza, and when I get back, we can just forget all that I said.” Gerard stopped to take a deep breath, shutting his eyes as he did so. “Ok.”

Gerard turned away from the counter and practically ran out of the store, desperately needing to leave. He didn’t know where that outburst had come from and how the words had made their way out of his mind—he didn’t even know when they’d made their way _into_ his mind. Cold air assaulted his face the moment he stepped out of the door and he chose to walk to the nearest pizza place, so that the rush of cold breeze could clear his mind.

Frank was still frozen behind the register, an unchanging expression on his face. He had been expecting Gerard to lash out on him, but he wasn’t expecting it to affect him as it was. Gerard’s words had bit at him, gnawing at his hard exterior. He was frustrated with himself.

He dropped his forehead onto the counter, not bothering to soften the blow in anyway, landing with a loud thud. Messy strands of his dark hair cascaded onto the counter below him, the slightly curling tips lightly touching the surface. It was a veil, shielding the almost pained expression on his face from the world, hiding the fact that he was so caught up on every single word Gerard had spoken to him. Even though no one other than Gerard and himself knew about the situation, he felt the dire need to hide from the world, to hide the _caring_ expression that had painted his face. He _cared_ and that was the worst part of it all. He cared about how Gerard felt and actually wanted to change it, but he couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t. Gerard would be leaving and he would be done with the part of his life. He could easily drift back to the life in which he didn’t have to shield himself away from the world.

Gerard came strolling back in a long while later. Frank hadn’t moved, his forehead taking a liking to the cold surface of the counter. He lifted his head, expecting to see a customer. There was a tired expression on his face—half-lidded eyes, upturned eye brows—that Gerard easily spotted, but chose to ignore. He walked up to the counter, setting the pizza box in front of Frank, warming the cold spot on which Frank’s forehead had been planted. He also had two cans of soda and left one for Frank, keeping the other for himself.

Frank was waiting for more from Gerard. He didn’t think Gerard could actually come back and act completely normal, but he did. Gerard opened the pizza box, tearing a slice out, using his fingers to catch stray strands of stretchy cheese. He took his seat and then a huge bite out of his slice, setting the soda can on the floor next to his chair.

Frank stared dumbly at the pizza for a moment, the perplexed expression on his face making it seem as though he wasn’t sure how to go about eating it. He wasn’t even seeing the pizza, though, in that moment in time. His eyes were on it, but his mind somewhere else, clouding his vision with never-ending thoughts.

It was only when he felt Gerard’s eyes fixated on his face that he finally shook the thoughts away and took a slice out for himself.

The rest of the day passed by encompassed by the silence they had usually taken to. Gerard drove them home, and they wordlessly made their way into the apartment. Thoughts of how this was their last time going home from work together resonated through their minds. When they walked into the apartment, Frank lingered for a while by the door after taking off his shoes. He didn’t know why, or what he was planning to do, but that was as far as he got. With a sigh of frustration at his fucked up mind, he headed for his bedroom.

Gerard noticed this, and with his own sigh, dropped into the sofa.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke, once again being the one to break the silence. Frank stopped, his hand on the door knob to his bedroom. He waited for what harsh words would flow out of Gerard’s mouth this time, but they didn’t come. Instead he received a simple, “Good night.”

Frank closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. It definitely wasn’t what he was expecting, especially not the niceness with which Gerard spoke, but it brought about with it the same amount of guilt that Gerard had made him feel earlier in the day.

“Good night,” Frank said, wishing to eliminate the monotone of his voice, but he feared what emotions would have been there if he spoke any other way.

 _Last night,_ Frank thought. It was their last night, and it was anything but good, but he wouldn’t say anything, he couldn’t, because it was his own fault. Unless he was willing to change it, then he could say nothing about it.


	21. Chapter 20: Foreign Familiarity

Bright rays of sun drifted in through Frank’s bedroom window, forcing him to wake up no matter how tightly he kept his eyes shut. The day had come but he was trying to deny that he was awake. He wasn’t ready for the day to begin. He wasn’t ready to face the fact that Gerard was finally leaving. His eyes had opened to face the oncoming day, but he quickly shut them, wanting to sink back into a dark slumber.

The doorbell ringing pulled his eyes open again, keeping him from sleeping. He shot up out of bed, scratching at his messy hair. When he walked out of his room, he found Gerard opening the door for Mikey. Gerard greeted his brother with a happy hug, not having noticed that Frank had emerged from his bedroom.

Bags full of kitchen supplies and clothes were piled together next to the sofa. Gerard hadn’t had too many things when he stayed at Frank’s, so he wasn’t leaving with much either. A sickening feeling surged through Frank’s stomach at the sight of the packed things. He swallowed an annoying lump that had formed in his throat.

“Morning,” he croaked, finally catching Gerard’s and Mikey’s attention.

“Oh, you’re up,” Gerard said, pulling out of the embrace with his brother. “Morning.”

Mikey waved silently, and so did Frank.

“You’re, uh, getting ready to go?” Frank asked, still standing by the door of his bedroom.

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, hugging his body with one arm. “Mikey needs help moving some of his stuff since he has more than me, so…”

“Right, yeah,” Frank nodded.

“I’ll take some stuff out to the car,” Mikey offered, walking over and picking up two garbage bags full of Gerard’s things, leaving Gerard with a small grocery bag to carry out with him. “Say your goodbyes and shit, I’ll be in the car. See ya, Frank.” Mikey nodded his head towards Frank and Frank returned it with a small wave.

When Mikey left, leaving the apartment door open, the cold air drifting into the living room fit the mood that was between the two men. Nothing but numbing coldness was left between the two of them, and neither of them had any idea what to say.

“Time flew, huh?” Frank mumbled, surprised to be the one to break the silence.

“Yeah, it did,” Gerard let out a small, breathy laugh that was composed entirely of nerves. “Well, I don’t wanna keep Mikey waiting or anything, so uh, I’ll…”

Gerard bent over to pick up the bag and Frank just nodded dumbly, still planted in front of his bedroom.

Gerard stood back up and as he started edging towards the door, Frank’s eyes darted around the room, trying to distract himself from the image of Gerard pretty much walking right out of his life. Gerard was now standing at the doorway, about half his body exposed to the outside.

“I, uh, made some pancakes,” Gerard said, catching Frank’s attention. “Just a few, you know, I figured you’d want some. And, uh, I made some—a burrito for lunch. I just, uh, figured I’d finish the cooking stuff I had here, since you probably wouldn’t be cooking yourself.” Gerard let out another one of those nervous chuckles.

“You didn’t have to,” Frank mumbled, painful guilt stabbing at every part of him. “But thanks.”

“It’s nothing,” Gerard shrugged.

Frank’s eyes had begun to wander around the room again, trying to distract themselves from Gerard, when they caught on to something folded neatly on the sofa. Before Frank could actually think about it, he found himself walking over to it and picking it up.

“You’re leaving this?” Frank asked, finally looking straight at Gerard. Frank was holding his blanket in his hands, the blanket he and Gerard had fought over.

“It’s yours,” Gerard said plainly, now being the one to avoid Frank’s eyes, his hands loosening and tightening around the bag in his hand.

“No,” Frank shook his head, walking over to Gerard and holding the blanket out to him. “It’s yours.”

Gerard’s eyes suddenly stung as tears filled them, but he quickly blinked them back hoping Frank hadn’t noticed. But Frank had noticed, and found that the lump in his throat was being more persistent than Gerard when he first met him.

“R-Really, Frank, it’s just a blanket,” Gerard laughed that same laugh, and that laugh was assaulting Frank with emotions.

“It’s yours,” Frank repeated, his voice just slightly strained. Not wanting to argue with Gerard, he leaned over and took Gerard’s hand in his. They both tensed at the contact, and Frank almost forgot what he was doing. Regaining himself, he quickly hung the blanket over Gerard’s arm and backed away, his fingers twitching slightly as they came apart from Gerard’s.

“You just don’t wanna admit defeat, huh?” Gerard sighed, smiling slightly and holding the blanket to his side.

“I win,” Frank shrugged.

“You do,” Gerard chuckled, looking down for a minute. “Thank you, Frank, for everything. Work, staying here, helping me with Blake, all of it meant the world to me.”

“It’s no big deal,” Frank said.

“It was,” Gerard shook his head. “It was a lot. I mean, ok, so I stayed up last night thinking and you know, maybe I’ve been the asshole lately. Like, I haven’t been thinking more about all the things you’ve done for me. Even though I’m annoying and shit, and I know I annoy you and all, you still did so much to help me. I’m just…thank you for all of it, Frank. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Frank practically squeaked. “Sorry for what?”

“Sorry for pushing myself on you,” Gerard shrugged, “and getting pissed over something really stupid. It’s really unfair of me not to, like, try and understand how big of a deal something like that is for you if you’re, you know, not gay. I just, I guess, I don’t know, maybe I was being really inconsiderate, so I’m sorry for it.”

“Gerard, you…I...you weren’t…” Frank’s words were being cut off as his thoughts tried to actually form. He couldn’t even think straight with Gerard’s sudden apology. It had come out of nowhere. All he could think was to wonder what the fuck Gerard was sorry for.

Gerard let his bag and blanket drop to the floor. He took the small steps between himself and Frank and took Frank into a tight hug. Frank was shocked, but did nothing to move away. As a sort of reflex, he found one of his hands lightly clutching onto the side of Gerard’s sweater. His chin was propped on Gerard’s shoulder and it took all he had to keep his eyes locked straight ahead so that he didn’t turn his face.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard repeated, his voice coming out in a slight whimper. He wasn’t crying, but the lump in his throat was definitely straining his voice too much to hide. “I’m really sorry I didn’t appreciate you more and I’m sorry I, like, lost it on you yesterday and I’m sorry I fucked up this friendship. I’m really fucking sorry. Thank you for putting up with it anyways.”

Frank’s voice was completely stolen from him. Even if he could have come up with something to say, there was no voice to say it with. Gerard’s hands were still clasped tightly behind his back, keeping their bodies close to each other, and Frank’s hand was still holding the side of Gerard’s soft sweater, his fingernails digging into the fabric.

Frank wasn’t aware that the hug was lasting longer than usual because Gerard was fighting to hold back the tears that were fighting to escape his eyes. Once he was able to blink the tears back, keeping his cheeks safe from being stained with them, he pulled away from the hug. Frank’s fingers reluctantly released Gerard’s sweater. Crumpled wrinkles were left behind where his hand had been.

“Thanks, Frank, again,” Gerard laughed nervously.

“It was…it was…I…” Frank scratched the back of his head, stopping to tug at a few hairs nervously. “It was nothing. All of it. I mean, you don’t need to, like, thank me and apologize, or whatever. It was all…no big deal, I mean…yeah.”

“It’s fine,” Gerard shrugged, smiling at Frank’s stumbling over words. “I have to thank you.”

“You…you don’t, though,” Frank said.

“I’m supposed to be the stubborn one,” Gerard rolled his eyes playfully. “Just say you’re welcome, Frank. Mikey is gonna kill me for making him wait.”

“You’re welcome,” Frank sighed, defeated.

“See you around,” Gerard said, picking up his bag and blanket off the floor.

“Yeah, see you.”

Gerard gave Frank one more smile before he finally walked out of the apartment, pulling the door shut behind him. Frank had literally averted his eyes the moment Gerard looked away so that he didn’t have to actually watch Gerard leave the apartment. The moment the door clicked shut, he collapsed into the sofa, feeling weighed down with guilt.

Gerard had apologized. Frank had been the asshole, yet Gerard had been the one to apologize. Gerard felt as though he owed Frank because of all that Frank had done for him. He apologized even though he had done nothing wrong. And Frank…Frank just let him. Frank watched as Gerard played the role of being the abused right before him. Watched as Gerard took the blame even though he actually had none of it. It was all Frank’s fault, yet Gerard had been the one to apologize. Frank let his head fall onto the back of the sofa and pressed his palms to his shut eyelids. The guilt was eating him alive. He felt physically sick because of it and just wanted it to stop.

He pulled his hands from his eyes, blinking furiously as his vision was blurred momentarily. He heaved himself off the sofa and made his way into his room. It was about time he started getting ready for work, but he had no ambition at that moment. He needed some time to fully grasp on to the fact that he was back to living life the way he used to.

The entire apartment was eerily silent. He had a desperate need to be deafened by his music. He hoped it would drown out his thoughts along with the silence. He scrambled back into bed, taking his iPod and putting the headphones in his ears. He scrolled through his long and varied list of music, until his thumb settled over “Unlovable” by the Smiths. If there was anything in the world that could make Frank lose himself entirely, it was Morrissey’s haunting voice, but even that wasn’t enough. He lost himself for brief moments at a time, but with every other lyric, his thoughts were forced right back into his mind. Nothing could distract him from the fact that he was, once again, living alone.

There was no one else there, but Frank, and there wouldn’t be. It was strange how he had been used to living that way for so long, yet now it seemed so foreign to him. This was the lifestyle he had grown used to, and yet Gerard had managed to disturb it completely. Gerard had managed to suddenly make him yearn for a life that wasn’t so lonely, even though that was what he basically strived for. Gerard made him actually despise the calmness and secure feeling of being alone. Gerard took the lifestyle which had been so familiar to Frank—had been all he knew—and made it seem so foreign and out of place.


	22. Chapter 21: Mean Something

“What happened with you and Frank?” Mikey asked, while pulling out of the parking lot of Frank’s apartment complex.

“What happened with you and Frank?” Mikey asked, during the drive to his parent’s home.

“What happened with you and Frank?” Mikey asked, as he and Gerard moved boxes of clothes and junk into Gerard’s car.

Mikey asked while they drove to his new apartment, while they moved things into their new home, while they unpacked a few necessities, and even while Gerard was busy in the kitchen getting lunch ready. Every time he asked, Gerard’s answer was in the form of a glare and then an aversion of eye contact.

“If you ask me one more fucking time, you’re not getting any lunch,” Gerard threatened, getting tired of the repeated question.

Mikey was leaning against the counter, sipping at a soda can while Gerard was at the stove making pasta for lunch.

“You know, that just makes me more curious,” Mikey said. “I mean, fuck, it was so awkward.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Gerard mumbled.

Gerard had been trying to forget about Frank, even if it was just momentarily. He needed to eliminate the scent of Frank’s greasy hair from his nose, the feeling of Frank’s hand clutched to his side, the press of Frank’s body against his own during that final goodbye hug. Maybe Gerard would have had a chance to get rid of all of it if Mikey didn’t bring up Frank’s name every few seconds.

“Fine, I’ll stop for now,” Mikey shrugged, turning to leave the kitchen. “Only 'cause that pasta smells fucking delicious.”

Mikey strolled out of the kitchen and into the living room so that he could tame his curiosity by unpacking a few more of his things.

Gerard was finally given a few moments to himself, accompanied only by the sound of his food sizzling in the pan. He managed to keep his thoughts off of Frank for a total of two minutes before something reminded him of Frank. He was cutting up pieces of chicken to add to the pasta sauce when he remembered that if he was cooking for himself and Frank, he wouldn’t have put meat in it.

“Fucking chicken,” Gerard muttered, quickly adding the chicken bits to the sauce, in hopes that the faster it was out of his sight, the faster Frank would be out of his mind. But of course, it didn’t work that way. For the rest of his time cooking, and even while he and Mikey sat on the floor of the living room eating their lunch, Frank was the center of Gerard’s mind’s attention.

Gerard was the center of Frank’s thoughts as well. Once Frank had managed to get himself out of bed, he got dressed and headed to work. How was he supposed to think about anything else as he walked towards work when he typically would have been in the car with Gerard? What was he supposed to think about as he made his way into the empty store that lacked Gerard’s presence? As if it wasn’t hard enough, the sight of Gerard’s empty chair assaulted Frank with a wave of excruciating guilt and nostalgia.

The chair which Gerard usually occupied, set up right in front of the door of the small employee lounge, was basically tugging at the pin of Frank’s emotions, wanting to cause an explosion. Frank walked over to the chair, folded it, and threw it into the employee lounge; he couldn’t handle looking at it.

The chair’s absence didn’t make the rest of the day go by any easier. Every silent second that passed, Frank wondered what Gerard would have been rambling about had their relationship been back to normal. Even when Frank took out his headphones to drown out the silence, he was reminded of Gerard telling him to install speakers into the store. Frank groaned and shoved his iPod back into his pocket. He knew it would be difficult, but he didn’t realize how painful it would be.

Anytime Gerard crept into his thoughts, it wasn’t just a few flashbacks, it was this nauseating yearn for the flashbacks to be relived. Frank could feel his stomach flip every time he thought of Gerard, and the moment he apologized to him. The guilt, combined with the sheer fact that Frank actually _missed_ Gerard, was weighing Frank down. He couldn’t even give the customer’s his robotic speech. He just nodded them off, and didn’t bother with a fake smile.

The rest of the day went by extremely slow, but finally passed. Frank looked at the time and saw that it was closing time. He had forgotten to eat lunch, having put the burrito Gerard made him in the front pocket of his pullover hoodie. He took the burrito out and set it on the counter. Gerard had neatly wrapped it in aluminum foil, and Frank felt himself getting emotional… _over a fucking burrito._ As if he couldn’t feel more pathetic, he took the burrito, went into the employee lounge, and got Gerard’s chair that had been thrown on the floor. He set it up in Gerard’s usual spot and took a seat on it, carefully unwrapping his burrito.

He realized how sad he looked, how pathetic it seemed, but he couldn’t help it. It didn’t help his nostalgia at all, but it definitely served to numb it out a bit. To sit in Gerard’s place and eat the lunch Gerard had made him.

“Holy fuck, I’m pathetic,” Frank sighed when he finished eating, shaking his head at himself. “What the fuck am I doing…?”

Frank sat back in the chair, tossing the aluminum foil into the trash can that was near the cash register. He ran his hands through his hair and stared up at the ceiling. The entrance of the store chimed loudly and Frank scattered off the chair, jumping away from it like a child that had been caught doing something wrong.

“YO, FRANKIE!” Hambone’s voice reached Frank.

“Hey, Hambone,” Frank sighed, somewhat disappointed. A part of him had hoped it would be someone else barging through the door of the store…

“Well, geez, contain your excitement,” Hambone scoffed, walking up to Frank and shoving his shoulder.

“Oh, I’m trying,” Frank rolled his eyes. “I gotta close up, anyways.”

“You’re closing now?” Hambone asked.

Frank nodded, eyeing Hambone strangely. He had a grin on his face, which wasn’t unusual for him, but Frank could see that he had something on his mind that he wasn’t saying.

“Well hurry the fuck up, you’re gonna miss my gig,” Hambone said, his smile growing bigger.

“I’m pretty tired, Hambone, I don’t—”

“No fucking excuses, man,” Hambone shook his head, grabbing Frank by the arm and dragging him towards the door. “I think our time to get up on stage already passed…”

“What? What do you mean it already passed?” Frank asked, getting pushed outside.

“I mean that the rest of my band is probably freaking out looking for me but I came to get your ass because you need to fucking come to my gig! Now lock up your store and let’s go!”

“Holy fuck, Hambone,” Frank sighed, finally pulling out of his grip and hurrying to lock the door of the store. “Why would you do that? What if they don’t let you guys play? Shit.”

“I know the owner, he’s cool,” Hambone shrugged. “This is probably our last gig here for a long time, dude, I wasn’t gonna let you miss it.”

“I don’t know why you want me there so damn bad,” Frank said, getting the door locked and then following Hambone towards his car.

“Because, young Franklin,” Hambone said, raising his voice a few octaves, “you are my friend and that’s what friends do. I’m pretty much your only friend so I gotta show you the ropes of friendship.”

“You’re so fucking lame,” Frank laughed lightly.

Hambone waved him off and they got in the car. He pulled away from the curb at a surprisingly slow rate, considering they were late.

“Shouldn’t you hurry?” Frank asked.

“I want to get to the gig, but I want to get there alive,” Hambone shrugged. “Plus, I’m not actually late…”

“What do you mean you’re not actually late?”

“I mean, I’m not late,” Hambone said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I knew that’s the only way I could get your ass to go, so I lied.”

“You lying fucker,” Frank groaned. “I’m fucking tired, I wanna go home.”

“Too late now,” Hambone shrugged, smiling proudly to himself.

Frank eyed him angrily for a couple seconds before he realized that his glare wasn’t the least bit intimidating. He leaned over and turned up the radio, some random CD blaring through the speakers. He rested his head against the window and for that short drive, he was actually able to distract himself from the thoughts that had been teasing him the entire day.

When they finally arrived, a small line had formed outside of the bar, and Hambone dragged Frank by the arm to the entrance, clutching on to him as if he would actually run away. The bouncer almost stopped them at the front, but Hambone simply pushed past him.

“I’m with the band!” Hambone called over his shoulder at the angry looking bouncer. “How could you forget my gorgeous face?!”

“You’re so obnoxious,” Frank rolled his eyes. “How have you not gotten your ass kicked?”

“I’m just too damn lovable,” Hambone shrugged. He pulled Frank over to the side entrance on the stage where the rest of the band was waiting, each with a drink in their hand.

“Hey, guys,” Hambone greeted them. “I got our number one fan.”

Frank rolled his eyes at the gesture.

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Frank said, turning away from the rest of the band, but Hambone quickly grabbed onto his arm.

“You’re not running away, are you?” Hambone asked.

“No,” Frank sighed, “I’m already here, might as well just get a fucking drink.”

“That’s the spirit!”

Frank finally turned towards the bar. He got to the bar and got a beer, then headed back to the crowd, pushing up to the front before it got too crowded later. Hambone waved at him from the side of the stage, and Frank raised his drink.

More people gathered, soon filling the entire bar with mindless chatter, awaiting the band to take the stage. Frank continued sipping at his drink until it was nearly empty. People shoved and pushed around him, but he held his ground, not wanting to take shit from Hambone later if he wasn’t at the front, listening to every lyric and note.

The band finally filed onto the stage after a long wait, and the crowd around Frank cheered excitedly, shouting out some of the members’ names.

The lead singer, guitar in hand, took the center of the stage, smiling out at the crowd.

“We are Pencey Prep, and we’re gonna play you some fucking songs,” he said simply and without another second to spare, they went into their first song.

Frank always loved listening to them. He hated complimenting Hambone because it gave him the biggest head in the world, but some of their songs had taken comfortable spots in the top played list on his iPod. Hambone caught Frank’s eyes about halfway through their second song, but not for long. He was in his own zone now, and wasn’t the usual and annoyingly loud Hambone; he was the bassist and that was his main focus.

During the fourth song, someone bumped into Frank causing him to lurch forward and almost spill the remains of his drink. He quickly caught himself, steadying the cup with his other hand and turned to glare at whoever had bumped into him. He caught sight of someone edging away from him, though, and he felt his stomach flip.

He could only see their back, but that black hair was way too familiar to belong to anyone else. On some random impulse, Frank began edging towards the person, forgetting where he was.

“Gerard!” he called, but he just kept walking away from him, pushing past people. Frank continued following after him. “Hey, Gerard! Gerard, listen!” Frank got tired of him being unresponsive, so he grabbed his arm and spun him around, spitting the words out of his mouth. “I’m fucking sorry!”

“What the fuck?”

That was not Gerard’s voice and that definitely wasn’t Gerard standing in front of Frank. The man he had turned to face him was about the same height and size of Gerard, with similar raven hair, but was definitely not him.

“Oh,” Frank said, releasing the strange man’s arm. “Sorry, I, uh, thought you were someone else.”

The man shrugged it off and turned away, leaving Frank standing in the middle of pushy, loud, and sweaty people.

No matter how distracting the setting he was in, nothing could distract him from his emotions at that moment. He had apologized. It had been nerve-wracking and stressful, yet the most uplifting feeling he had experienced the entire day. But it was wasted. It wasn’t Gerard and it didn’t matter. It meant nothing. Frank sighed, feeling choked up for the millionth time that day.

Forgetting about the gig, and forgetting about everything, he pushed his way through the audience until he made it to the bar. He needed a drink. He needed a lot of drinks. And that was what he got.

For the rest of Pencey Prep’s set, Frank chugged down drink after drink and shot after shot, the stronger the burn the better. By the time someone tapped his shoulder, he could hardly even turn in his stool without falling over.

“How was the show, fucker?” Hambone asked, nudging Frank.

“S’good,” Frank nodded, his head bobbing along like he had no control of it. “Fucking…fucking bad ass, yeah.”

“You drunk bastard,” Hambone laughed. “I’d be pissed, but I know you hate people and you can hear back here, so I don’t mind.”

“Right, yeah, o’course,” Frank nodded again, not having any idea what Hambone was even talking about.

Hambone called the bartender to get him a beer when he suddenly exclaimed and slapped Frank’s shoulder. Frank almost fell out of his chair.

“F-Fuck, ow,” Frank sighed, going to rub his shoulder, but missing, his hand just falling to his side.

“There’s the guy you used to work with,” Hambone said, pointing past Frank. “Gerard, right? YO, GERARD! MIKEY!”

For just a short second, Frank was completely sober and spun around in his chair to stare where Hambone was pointing. For another second, his world wasn’t spinning as he focused in on Gerard, who was walking towards them, looking extremely hesitant.

Once they reached them, Frank was once again subdued by the alcohol, swaying like an idiot in his chair.

“Hey, guys!” Hambone greeted them, taking each of them into a quick one-armed hug. “You guys were here during the show? I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, we got here about halfway through your set,” Mikey nodded. “You guys are amazing.”

“Thank you,” Hambone nodded proudly. “Glad _someone_ liked it. Frankie, here, was getting drunk most of the time.”

Frank grunted some sort of response, another glass already attached to his lips.

Gerard just stared at Frank. He wanted to greet him normally, having thought about him the entire day, but he really didn’t know what to say. He bit his lip to stay quiet, only chancing small glances at Frank while Hambone talked animatedly about something that happened during the show.

“You gotta show me your bass,” Mikey said.

“Oh, hell yeah, our van is out back with our equipment if you wanna come check it out,” Hambone offered.

“Sounds awesome,” Mikey nodded. “Gerard, get us some drinks and we’ll be back, alright?”

Gerard opened his mouth to say something, but Mikey was already guiding Hambone away. Mikey patted Gerard on the shoulder and gave him a quick wink, pointing at Frank.

Gerard mouthed a silent, “Fuck you,” at his brother.

“Love you, too!” Mikey laughed, hurrying away with Hambone.

Now it was the two of them. Gerard took the seat next to Frank and stared ahead.

“So, how’re you doing?” Gerard asked, still staring ahead.

“Drunk,” Frank said, then let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I can tell,” Gerard chuckled dryly.

Frank dropped his forehead onto the counter, knocking down his almost-empty drink in the process. The contents of the drink spilled over the bar and onto Gerard’s leg.

“Fuck, Frank!” Gerard exclaimed, jumping off the stool and picking the cup up before it rolled onto the floor.

“Wha’?” Frank asked, rolling his face onto his cheek to look at Gerard. “What…oh, oh, oops. That was…it fell.”

“No shit,” Gerard sighed. “You’re fucked up.”

“Haha, I know,” Frank chuckled. “Really fucking tired, too, fuck. Wanna go?”

“Go where?” Gerard asked, sitting back down on his stool.

“Home, duuuh,” Frank groaned. “Let’s go…go home already.”

Gerard eyed Frank strangely. He was referring to home as if they still lived together.

“Uh, Frank, you know we don’t—”

Gerard was cut off by Frank attempting to sit up off the stool. It resulted in him falling backwards. Gerard sped out of his chair and caught Frank just before he went stumbling towards the floor.

“Fuck,” Gerard grunted. “Really, Frank? Holy shit.”

“Did I…did I fall?” Frank asked, looking around at his surroundings.

“No,” Gerard sighed, his arms wrapped around Frank’s back, holding him up. “Almost. Come on, let’s go home.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, “’m really tired.”

Gerard adjusted Frank so that he had one arm around Gerard’s shoulders and they clumsily stumbled out of the bar. Gerard couldn’t believe that he was forced to do this again—except he wasn’t exactly forced. He texted Mikey, letting him know that he was helping Frank home. Mikey replied with a stupid winking face and Gerard rolled his eyes. While he walked Frank out of the bar, got him into his car, sat through Frank’s mindless chatter, and then walked him up to his apartment, Gerard felt as though he hadn’t moved out that morning. He felt as though he was still living with Frank and things had gone back to normal again.

“My head is like…like spinning,” Frank giggled, leaning against the wall while Gerard unlocked the door. “S’fucking dark, man. Why…why so dark?”

“Because it’s night,” Gerard sighed, finally getting the door open. He helped Frank off the wall and guided him into his apartment, pushing the door shut with his foot.

“Strong,” Frank mumbled, “so strong.”

“Who?” Gerard grunted, dragging Frank towards his room.

“You, Gerrd, duh,” Frank slurred. “’m so heavy.”

“Not really,” Gerard said, finally reaching the door to Frank’s room. “You’re short.”

“No ‘m not!” Frank exclaimed, but even his yell was lazy and subdued. “You're jus’…jus’ not…not short enough, yeah.”

“Good argument,” Gerard laughed.

He had finally reached Frank’s bed and helped set him down on it. Frank quickly lay down, but kept his arm around Gerard’s neck. He shut his eyes and looked as though he had drifted to sleep. Gerard went to gently remove Frank’s arm from around his neck, but Frank only brought the other arm there and pulled Gerard closer.

“Don’t,” Frank mumbled, his eyes still shut. “Don’ go.”

“I don’t live here, Frank,” Gerard said, his voice shaky. Their faces were just an inch apart and he could feel Frank’s warm breath tingle the skin of his lip with each deep breath he exhaled.

“I want you to,” Frank said, opening his eyes. His fingers slipped into Gerard’s hair.

“Y-You do?” Gerard asked, gulping loudly.

“I do,” Frank nodded, closing his eyes again.

Gerard was frozen completely until Frank began pulling him closer and closer. Gerard knew what was going to happen before it happened, but couldn’t find any part of his body that agreed to getting away from it, so he complied. Frank’s chapped lips met with his, his fingers tightening around the hair at the nape of Gerard’s neck, keeping him there. Gerard wasn’t planning on moving. His lips responded to Frank’s until he found himself parting them slowly, surrounding Frank’s lip ring. He poked his tongue out and nudged it slightly, causing Frank to groan into his mouth.

Gerard knew he shouldn't have been kissing Frank again, not under the same drunken circumstances. He knew that the smart thing to do would be to pull away, but he couldn’t resist the warmth taking over his entire body. He couldn’t resist the way Frank’s tongue moved uncoordinatedly over his and the way Frank made small and desperate noises that filled Gerard’s mouth. He couldn’t resist the way Frank was pulling him closer and closer, even though there was no longer any distance between them.

But he had to. Even if he and Frank did something, he wouldn’t gain anything out of it. The next day it would be regarded as a drunken mistake and that would be it. So, he couldn’t.

Gerard, using all his strength, pulled away from Frank. Frank’s hands that had been holding Gerard dropped to his chest and he looked up at Gerard with half-lidded eyes. His chest heaved as he took slow and deep breaths. He didn’t say anything to Gerard, who was staring down at him. He simply licked his lips and shut his eyes. Gerard swallowed loudly and closed his own eyes, trying to shut out the temptation.

“Why?” Frank asked simply, his speech still slow and his eyes still shut.

“Why’d I stop?” Gerard clarified, opening his eyes. Frank nodded. “Because you’re drunk. I want this, Frank, so much you have no idea, but not like this. I want it to actually mean something.”

“It…it does,” Frank sighed.

“Really?” Gerard asked, his hopes being lifted. Frank nodded and Gerard wanted so badly to give in. It meant something to Frank. “Frank, I…” Gerard paused and looked down at Frank, his eyes shut, possibly unconscious. He was drunk. The words coming out of his mouth at that moment were not a guarantee. Gerard couldn’t let himself get hung up on words coated with alcohol. “Frank, do me a favor, alright?”

“Hmmm?”

“Say that to me one day when you’re not drunk, please?” Gerard asked, brushing the hair out of Frank’s face and sighing. “And kiss me when you’re not drunk.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, his eyes still shut. He rolled over onto his side and snuggled with the Star Wars blanket.

“Night, Frank,” Gerard sighed, but Frank was already too far gone to respond.


	23. Chapter 22: Chancing Danger

Frank was growing much too familiar with the routine of waking up after a drunken night, accompanied by a painful hangover, and waiting for the events of his drunken self to come barging through his mind. Even the groan as it all hit him was routine. He threw his arm over his face, muttering, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” under his breath.

Sometimes he just wanted to be like other people who easily forgot their drunken actions, but other times he was glad he didn’t have to go through the day oblivious to what he had done.

The night’s events were vividly replaying in his head, leading up to the main event: the moment he kissed Gerard. There was no doubt that it was Frank who initiated the kiss and that was possibly the worst of it all. How was he supposed to explain it? At least he could deny everything about the blowjob because he hadn’t been the one to start it, but this time…it was all on Frank. The only thing slightly worse than the fact that it was his fault was the fact that he enjoyed it.

He pulled his arm off his eyes and let out a loud sigh, running his fingers over his lips, sliding over his lip ring. He could still fucking feel it. The warmth of Gerard’s lips on his, his tongue that had easily dominated Frank’s…the only thing he didn’t enjoy about it was the pain in Gerard’s eyes when he pulled away from him. Even the hammered Frank could see how Gerard longed to go right back into that kiss and take it wherever it could take itself. Frank longed for it, too…

But he wouldn’t allow those thoughts in his head. He couldn’t. The raging headache he had had allowed for a slip of admittance, but he wouldn’t let it happen again.

With one last regretful groan, he pulled himself up off the bed and lingered there for a while, turning his head to look at his closed door. What if Gerard had stayed the night? What if Frank walked into the living room and saw Gerard there as if he had never moved out?

Frank’s legs found energy somewhere within his hungover state and hurried him over to the door. He quickly pulled it open and practically ran into the living room. He was met with disappointment, the last feeling he ever thought would accompany his empty living room. While Gerard had lived there, Frank sometimes longed for the days he had his apartment to himself. Now that he was gone, Frank hated it. He hated waking up to an empty apartment, an unused kitchen, and a couch that was lacking Gerard and his cup of coffee.

Frank tried hard to shut his feelings out. He managed to do so as he got ready for work, taking a couple Aspirins along the way. When he went into the kitchen and heated up a couple of the pumpkin pancakes that Gerard had left him, his emotions threatened to spill, but he kept them vacuum sealed in his mind.

Maybe it was the relentless headache, but he somehow managed to get through the Gerard-coated breakfast without allowing his emotions to render him incapable of doing anything. Once he was done, he tossed his plate into the sink, and headed out.

The cold air hit him even harder than usual and he desperately wished he had Gerard to give him a ride to work, because he felt his headache growing worse and worse every time a strong breeze came his way. He groaned at the thought, wondering if he could manage _two seconds_ without thinking about Gerard.

When he finally arrived to work, the answer to his question was obviously no. Gerard never left his mind. Even though Frank managed to block out the emotions, there was nothing to stop the thoughts. They followed him throughout the day, making his usual friendly demeanor difficult to maintain, even in front of customers. He was irritated by every single thing, from customers taking too long to get their wallets, and even to them taking too long browsing the aisles.

When he loudly groaned, “It’s a fucking magazine, hurry up,” to one teenage girl, who glared at him and then dramatically left the store, he realized he had to do something. No matter how much he didn’t want to, he had to confront the fucker that was gallivanting through his mind. Without giving himself much time to rethink it, he got his keys, locked the store, and hurried down the sidewalk.

It was just around sunset, the sky was streaked with hues of red and orange. Frank focused on the streaks of color in the sky ahead of him, so that he didn’t change his mind about what he was going to do.

In just a matter of minutes, he found himself standing outside a tattoo shop that he was all too familiar with, except that he usually had very different intentions when going there. He would go with his mind set on a new tattoo of something he’d been fantasizing about getting inked for days. This time, it had nothing to do with ink—it didn’t have that much to do with himself, either.

Taking a deep breath, Frank barged through the door. It was a small tattoo parlor, and there was only one person working there.

“What a lovely surprise!” Hambone said from the chair he was sitting at, his feet propped up on a desk.

“Hey,” Frank sighed, feeling his nerves build up in his stomach. “You guys haven’t left yet?” Asking about the band was definitely not a way to have polite conversation, but a way for Frank to momentarily distract himself from the real reason he was there.

“Nah,” Hambone shook his head, “we’ll probably head out on the road tomorrow. Come to see your favorite Hambone for the last time? Or for new ink?”

“Neither,” Frank shrugged.

“Fuck, man, that’s harsh!” Hambone barked out, laughing.

“Oh, sorry,” Frank mumbled. His hands were rooted into his jeans pockets and he was awkwardly staring at the floor.

“It’s cool,” Hambone laughed, sitting up properly on the chair, and leaning against his elbows on the desk. “I know you show your love in different ways. So what’s up? You seem off…well more than usual.”

Frank thought about actually confiding in Hambone, about telling him his dilemma with Gerard, but he couldn’t get into too much detail because there was way too much he wasn’t willing to reveal to anyone.

“Earth to Frankie,” Hambone sang. “I haven’t got all day.”

“You’re not fucking busy,” Frank muttered under his breath. He had finally stopped to think about what he wanted to do, and how that he was thinking about it, he wanted to run right back to the safety of his music store.

“Ok, shit, ouch!” Hambone chuckled, not easily offended by Frank's blunt nature. “You’re really on edge, man. What the fuck is going on?”

Even though Hambone was laughing and making a joke of things, he was actually genuinely concerned. Frank had always been a distant person. What Hambone was seeing wasn’t distance. Frank was actually hung up over something and it was eating him up.

“Do you have Mikey’s number?” Frank finally asked. “Or…Gerard’s?”

“I have Mikey’s, not Gerard’s,” Hambone answered. “Shouldn’t you have Gerard’s number? I mean, he used to work for you.”

“Never got it,” Frank shrugged. “Can I get Mikey’s?”

“Sure,” Hambone nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “But there’s one condition.”

“Oh, fuck, just give me the number, Hambone, _please!_ ”

Hambone was taken aback by the desperation in Frank’s tone, but it did nothing to tame his curiosity and concern.

“It’s a small one,” Hambone shrugged. “Just tell me why you need it.”

“I need to get a hold of Gerard,” Frank blurted out the words. “Now give me the number.”

“Ah, ok,” Hambone nodded, opening his phone and scrolling through the numbers. “You gonna memorize it or what? You’re all Amish and shit and won’t buy a cell phone.”

“Give me a paper,” Frank rolled his eyes. Hambone was dragging this spontaneous decision too long to keep it spontaneous. Frank was being allowed way too much time to actually think about what he was doing.

Hambone silently pulled a pen and paper out of the desk and wrote a number down. He slid the paper across the desk and smiled up at Frank.

“There ya go,” Hambone shrugged, sitting back in his chair.

“Thanks,” Frank sighed. He didn’t give himself anymore time in the tattoo shop with the pestering Hambone. Paper in hand, he spun on his heels and left the shop, leaving Hambone more curious than ever.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ was all Frank allowed himself to think until he reached the nearest payphone. He quickly went inside, dug a quarter out of his pocket, and dropped it into the coin slot. His fingers shook as he dialed Mikey’s number. With every dial tone, Frank’s desire to hang up and go home grew. He was just about to pull the phone away from his ear when Mikey answered.

“Hello?”

Frank took a deep breath. “Uh, hey, Mikey?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“This is Frank?”

“Oh, hey, Frank! What’s up?”

“Not much,” Frank sighed. There was an awkward silence, and Mikey’s voice could be heard about to attempt to start a conversation, but Frank decided to just pull the band-aid off instead of drawing the pain out. “I just needed, uh, I needed Gerard’s number. I never got it from him.”

“Oh, you didn’t?” Mikey sounded surprised. “Yeah, lemme get it for you.”

Frank realized, as Mikey was about to recite the numbers, that he didn’t have a pen or pencil to write the number down. He ran a frustrated hand over his face as Mikey recited the numbers; there was no pattern to help Frank remember them. On top of that, his nerves were way too strong for him to actually focus enough to memorize seven digits, even if only for a couple seconds.

“Fuck, wait,” Frank sighed, “let me get a pen.”

“Oh, sorry, ok.”

Frank dug into his pockets and pulled out his keys. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and tested out his plan on the side of the booth. The keys made a clear scratch that he would be able to read.

“Ok, got it,” Frank said, feeling extremely proud of himself.

Mikey recited the numbers and this time Frank clearly scratched each number into the side of the phone booth.

“He should be home right now,” Mikey said. “He had a job interview earlier, so, yeah, he should be free.”

“Ok, thanks.”

“No problem,” Mikey replied. “Ima get back to work.”

“Alright, bye.” Frank hung up before Mikey even got the chance to reply, because he needed to hurry before he got the chance to change in his mind. “Here goes nothing.” Frank put in another quarter into the coin slot and punched in Gerard’s number. It didn’t take as long for Gerard to pick up as it did for Mikey. Frank came close to hanging up when Gerard’s voice reached his ear.

“Hello?”

Frank was rendered silent.

“Hello?” Gerard asked again.

Frank opened his mouth but he couldn’t get himself to actually speak.

“Uh…I’m hanging up now…”

“Wait!” Frank finally burst out, sounding breathless when he finally spoke. “Uh…Gerard…”

“Who’s this?” Gerard asked.

“It’s…uh…It’s Frank.”

“Oh.”

Gerard said nothing after that. Frank wasn't surprised. Of course Gerard would have nothing to say. He didn’t need to tell Frank anything; it was Frank who needed to talk to him.

“How’s, uh, how did the job interview go?” Frank asked stupidly.

“Good,” Gerard sighed. “Mikey put in a good word for me, so obviously I should get it, but you know, they had to do the interview.”

“Yeah, I hope you get it.”

“Thanks.”

There was another awkward silence. Frank didn’t actually know how to break it this time, so he just stayed silent.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke, breaking the silence. “Why are you calling? I mean, not that it’s a bad thing, but I’m just wondering…”

“I,” Frank began, but stopped, taking a deep breath. “Can we meet up?”

Frank was actually surprised at himself for that. That was not what he intended to say. He would have rather dealt with everything over the phone. The words had already been said, though, and there was no taking them back.

“Really?” Gerard asked, sounding surprised. “Right now?”

“I guess,” Frank mumbled.

“Where at?”

Frank looked around the area he was in and realized there was hardly anything around him.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” Frank said. “I don’t see any place here.”

“Tell me where you’re at and I’ll pick you up,” Gerard offered.

“Oh, you don’t have—” Frank began.

“It’s fine, Frank,” Gerard interrupted. “Just tell me where you’re at.”

Frank let out a loud sigh, slamming his forehead against the glass of the phone booth. He gave Gerard the address to Hambone’s tattoo shop and Gerard said he would be there in just a matter of minutes.

Frank slammed the phone shut and cursed at himself repeatedly. The plan was to just make a call; he managed to set up a fucking meeting and make everything a million times harder.

Before leaving the phone booth, he took out his keys and scratched over Gerard’s number until it was illegible, then he headed back to Hambone’s tattoo shop. Hambone was sitting the same way Frank had found him earlier, leaning back in his chair and legs propped up on the desk.

“Miss me?” Hambone teased when he saw Frank walk through the door.

“Totally,” Frank sighed, dropping into one of the chairs by the door.

“So, why did you need Mikey’s number?” Hambone asked, not bothering to beat around the bush.

“Please, fuck off,” Frank mumbled. “This is the one time I really, really want you to fuck off.”

“And this is the one time I’m really, really not gonna,” Hambone shrugged, peering over his shoes at Frank. “You look like you’re about to kill yourself, man, just tell me what the fuck it is.”

“Drop it,” Frank sighed.

“I’m not dropping it, Frankie,” Hambone said. “In exchange for whatever the fuck is going on, I’ll make your next tattoo free.”

“No,” Frank said without even thinking about it.

“Next two tattoos,” Hambone upped his offer.

“No.”

“Come on, man! I don’t have anything to offer!”

“I’m fucking confused, alright?!” Frank exclaimed, standing up off his chair. Hambone’s eyes widened and he sat up straight. “One second, I can’t fucking stand the guy and the next, I fucking miss him! I don’t want it to fucking mean anything, but it does! I wanna fucking forget!”

“Whoa,” Hambone sighed. “Frank, sit down, alright?”

“God,” Frank groaned, dropping into his seat. He buried his face in his hands. “Forget everything I just fucking said, Hambone,” he mumbled through his hands.

“Hell no,” Hambone sternly shook his head. He got up from his chair and took a seat next to Frank, keeping a proper distance between the two of them; he knew how much Frank hated people being in his personal space. “I would totally be flattered if that was about me, but I’m guessing it’s not, huh?”

“You’re a genius,” Frank sighed.

“So, it’s Gerard?”

Frank sat back in his chair and let his head fall back on the back of the chair. He stared at the stained ceiling above him and nodded.

“So you miss him ever since he left?” Hambone asked.

Frank nodded again.

“And you don’t want that to mean anything?”

Frank nodded.

“And you not being able to stand him most of the time is because you don’t want any of what you’re feeling to mean anything?”

Frank closed his eyes and nodded.

“So basically…you’re in denial that you like him?”

There it was. There it was right in Frank’s face. There was Hambone summing up all of what Frank was feeling in just a few words. Typically, Frank would have denied it, not only to Hambone, but to himself. But how could he now that it was said to him so raw?

Frank opened his eyes and let his head fall to the side so that he was looking at Hambone, who was sitting up straight with curiosity swimming in his eyes.

Frank nodded again.

A smile seemed to tug at Hambone’s lips. He fought it off, though, and kept a solemn face on.

“Give it a chance, man,” Hambone said, patting Frank on the shoulder. “I don’t know why you’re so in denial, but give it a chance. Obviously you don’t wanna believe you like him, so there’s no way in hell you can tell him or show him, so you know what you need to do?”

“If you say get a tattoo about this, I’ll kill you,” Frank groaned, in complete disbelief about Hambone being so serious and helpful.

“Fuck you!” Hambone laughed. “But that’s a good idea…anyways, what I was saying is what you need to do is give this guy a chance. Don’t do anything, just let him be a friend. Frank, I say this cause I fucking care, but you have problems making friends.”

“No, I don’t,” Frank said.

“Yeah, you fucking do,” Hambone argued. “I have to force you to be my friend!”

“I don’t have a problem making friends,” Frank shrugged. “I just fucking try not to make any. It’s not a problem if it’s what I want.”

“And _that_ is your problem,” Hambone laughed. “Look at me, I’m an awesome friend. So just give Gerard a chance, alright?”

Frank sighed and nodded. Giving things a chance was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Because taking a chance for the positive meant taking a chance for the negative. With every good thing he welcomed in his life, there was a possibility of bad, and that terrified him. Taking a chance on people meant putting himself in danger. The question was if the person he was giving a chance to was actually worth the possibility…


	24. Chapter 23: Far From Content

“So did you guys fuck?” Hambone asked, having smartly retreated to the safety of his desk.

Frank was still sitting at the chair by the door, his eyes intent on drawing patterns on the ceiling. Hambone’s comment wasn’t even worth his words, so he simply flipped him off without looking at him.

“Universal sign of ‘yes, we fucked,’” Hambone nodded. “Well, go Frankie! My baby’s growing up. I hope you used a condom.”

Frank cringed at the simple statement that had images and sensations suddenly flooding every inch of Frank’s mind. They hadn’t fucked exactly, though they’d done something remotely related to that. They hadn’t used a condom when Gerard gave Frank a blowjob, but of course, Frank didn’t need the condom, Gerard did, and he hadn’t used one. Gerard hadn’t even thought to use one, because Gerard was most likely not even thinking about himself. Frank hadn’t even done anything to reciprocate that night. As usual, Gerard was giving his all while Frank was giving absolutely nothing; that pained him more than the fact that he admitted to liking Gerard.

Frank let out a loud groan and rubbed at his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Oh, fuck!” Hambone gasped dramatically. “You didn’t use a condom!”

“Hambone, shut the fuck up already,” Frank grumbled. “We didn’t fuck.”

“Sorry,” Hambone sighed, a slight smile on his face. “I know I’m not helping, I’m not good at this shit, alright? All the advice I gave you was totally coming outta my ass.”

“For being shitted out, it was pretty good,” Frank laughed lightly, his hand still over his face.

“I’m just so amazing, even my shit saves lives,” Hambone boasted, all seriousness in his tone.

Hambone’s stupidity was actually enough to calm Frank’s nerves, even if just slightly, but they were brought back every time he heard a car passing by, thinking it was Gerard. His leg began bouncing up and down with anticipation, but minutes passed, cars passed, and Gerard hadn’t showed up yet.

“Maybe he’s not coming,” Frank said, sitting up. He rested his elbows on his knees and stared intently at his shoes, trying as hard as he could to convince himself of that thought. “I should probably go.”

“It’s only been a few minutes, man,” Hambone said. “Calm your tits. He’s coming.”

“How can you be so sure?” Frank persisted. Hambone was doing _nothing_ to convince him that he should just up and leave.

“He has stuck around with an annoying and pissy Frank for this fucking long,” Hambone shrugged. “I don’t think he’s giving up now. The guy obviously feels something for you.”

“Fuck, that’s so not helping!” Frank exclaimed, sliding back into his slouched position.

“Sorry,” Hambone laughed. “Stop sulking like a fucking teenager and grow some balls.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank waved him off.

Hambone saw that Frank was extremely tense. Frank’s eyes were once again trained on the ceiling, his leg was bouncing up and down repeatedly in a sloppy rhythm, and his hands were gripping onto the seat below him, fingers loosening and tightening on the edge. Knowing Frank, Hambone could see that if he stayed that tense, whatever conversation he and Gerard would have would go nowhere because Frank would be too caught up his nerves to do anything helpful.

Hambone stood out of his chair, completely unnoticed by Frank, and went over to the old CD player he had on one of the shelves. It had gathered dust and was an old piece of rusty and creaky junk, but it still worked. He looked through the pile of CD’s next to it until he came across a CD he had burned for himself, loaded with his favorite Black Flag songs. He knew Frank would enjoy that, so he put the CD in, prayed the CD player would work, and hit play. “Bastard in Love” began blasting through the speakers and Hambone literally clamped a hand over his mouth to contain his laughter at the perfect irony.

Frank lifted his head and looked at Hambone, who was still trying to stifle his laughter. He gave up the moment Frank’s eyes met his.

“I swear to God I didn’t put that song on on purpose!” Hambone bellowed. “It was a fucking coincidence, but oh my God, it’s the best coincidence ever!”

Frank couldn’t help but laugh along as the uncannily fitting lyrics began filling the room.

“Since it’s Black Flag, it’s acceptable,” Frank laughed.

Hambone let out a sigh of relief and took a seat at his desk, the song narrating everything too perfectly. Even though Frank was far from using the word “love,” the song was still spot on. “Punish your future, to spite your past,” came ringing into Frank’s ears and he lost himself. The song was suddenly all he could feel and think. Typically, the word “love,” would have thrown him off completely, but the entirety of the song was so relevant that that small terrifying factor became irrelevant.

Frank had clearly loosened up and Hambone saw that. Though he was lost in thought, he had still relaxed, his eyes staring at nothing in particular. Hambone sat back in his chair, relaxing now that Frank was relaxed as well.

Just as the words, “My love is real,” were sung and repeated for the last time at the end of the song, the door to the store opened and Gerard stepped in, the song coming to a close.

The nerves returned to Frank immediately when his eyes met with Gerard’s. Hambone could feel the tension, so he quickly stood up and lowered the volume on the CD player until it was almost inaudible.

The silence drew out much too long, and though Frank and Gerard were used to that happening with each other, Hambone wasn’t and he felt himself growing awkward in their place.

“Uh, hey, Gerard,” Hambone greeted, breaking the silent eye contact between the two men.

“Oh, hey, Hambone,” Gerard smiled, waving at Hambone. He looked back at Frank and gave him a proper greeting. “Hey, Frank.”

“Hey,” Frank said, already regretting his decision to actually talk to Gerard. He couldn’t see himself going through with it.

“Came to get some ink done, Gerard?” Hambone joked, pretending not to know anything.

“Nah,” Gerard chuckled.

“Oh, come on! You’re so fucking pale, it’s like your skin is begging for it!”

“I love tattoos,” Gerard said, “but I’m way too fucking scared of needles to actually get one.”

“Really?” Frank surprisingly piped in. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’d probably be covered in them if I wasn’t scared,” Gerard shrugged, smiling at the comfort with which Frank was speaking.

“When you get over the fear, you better fucking call me to be your first,” Hambone said.

“Promise,” Gerard laughed.

“Ok, now get this guy outta here,” Hambone dramatically groaned, pointing at Frank. “He won’t fucking leave me alone!”

Frank was about to object when Gerard quickly said, “Alright, I can do that,” and then looked down at Frank, who was still seated. Frank shut his mouth and stood up, realizing that there was no avoiding it now.

“Bye, guys,” Hambone waved them off. Frank and Gerard waved back and then they were out of the tattoo shop, and alone.

It was silent, of course, as they walked down the sidewalk towards Gerard’s car. Frank got into the passenger’s seat and watched Gerard make his way over to the driver’s side, but quickly pulled his gaze away once Gerard was in the car.

“So, uh, how’d the job interview go?” Frank asked.

“You already asked me that on the phone,” Gerard laughed.

“Oh,” Frank said, cringing at his stupidity.

“But it went well,” Gerard answered anyway. “But I’m pretty sure they’re only gonna hire me cause Mikey put in a good word for me. I guess that’s not too different for me, though…Sorry, that was—”

“Nah, that’s cool,” Frank shrugged. “They shouldn’t hire you for that reason only. You’re a good employee.”

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled shyly.

“What’s the job anyways?”

“Well Mikey’s an engineer, and the place he works at needed an office assistant, so I was the man for the job,” Gerard shrugged.

“You’ll be great,” Frank encouraged; he wasn’t the one for positive encouragements, so this was strange to him.

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled again.

They fell into a silence that was strangely not too awkward and somehow felt comfortable. Gerard turned the radio up just a bit, a random song from a local station playing.

Gerard wanted to talk to Frank about the reason he had called him, but he didn’t want to get to that yet. He wanted to enjoy the moments he had, even if they were silent and taken up by car rides and music; they were more than Gerard had ever hoped for. He wanted to draw it out as long as he could before the talking began and the possibility of the negative coming into view.

Frank wasn’t enjoying it because he was too busy freaking out about what the fuck he was supposed to say once the talk actually started. It had been his idea to meet up, yet didn’t know where to go with it. He didn’t know where to start and where to stop; he didn’t know anything. Even though his nerves were ruining his chance to enjoy it, he actually somehow saw the amazingness of the moment they were in. It was safe and it was natural. If his life could be a silent car ride with Gerard, he wouldn’t have any complaints.

The car ride ended, however, when Gerard pulled up to a rundown coffee shop that looked like it had been closed for years.

“I know it looks bad,” Gerard said, parking the car in the semi-filled lot, “but I swear they have the best coffee I have ever tasted in my fucking life.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Frank shrugged, eyeing the place with disdain.

He followed Gerard out of the car and into the café. It looked like it would have actually been a cozy place if it didn’t seem as though it had failed every health inspection test it had been through. Frank tried to ignore his thoughts about how dirty the kitchen would be. He let Gerard order for them, and then they took their seats at a table in a far corner. The table was distant from the noise and chatter, and placed next to the window.

They sat across from each other and Frank quickly took a sip of his coffee, even though it burned his tongue, so that he wouldn’t have to talk first. Aside from the burn, the coffee actually did taste amazing.

“You’re right, it’s good,” Frank acknowledged.

“Told you,” Gerard nodded proudly, taking a sip of his own drink. “So, where’d you call me from? Or, like, how’d you even get my number? I never applied like a normal employee.”

It was time to actually talk. Frank couldn’t avoid it much longer. The one thing he could avoid was Gerard's eyes, choosing to make eye contact with the bit of coffee that was resting at the mouth of his cup.

“I, uh, called from a phone booth,” Frank said. “I got your number from Mikey.”

“You had Mikey’s number?”

“I got Mikey’s number from Hambone,” Frank answered.

“Oh,” Gerard nodded. “Why?”

“Why what?” Frank asked, looking up to meet Gerard’s eyes for only a second before he went back to staring at his coffee.

“Well…a lot of things I guess,” Gerard shrugged. “But I guess…why’d you try so hard to call me? What exactly did you want? Wait, no, that sounds bad. I don’t mean it in a bad way, I’m just—”

“No, no,” Frank shook his head. He finally looked up at Gerard and this time held his gaze. “I get it. You actually should be pissed that I called you…but you’re Gerard and your fucking angry button is fucked up or something.”

“It’s just not pushed easily, I guess,” Gerard shrugged.

“I’ve pushed it a million times,” Frank sighed. “I’ve pushed it so damn hard, but you’re always nice to me anyways. Why?”

“Because—”

“Don’t say because of what I’ve done for you,” Frank interrupted. “Please, don’t fucking say that.”

“Then I don’t know,” Gerard shrugged, now being the one unable to hold Frank’s eyes. “I can’t think of a different answer.”

They were silent for a few seconds. Frank chose to look outside the window now, distracting himself with the dimly lit parking lot. The slowly darkening sky wasn’t doing much to light up anything, and there were no visible lights anywhere to help the matter.

“Well, about you asking me,” Frank said, still staring out the window. “I guess my answer is that I…I, uh…fuck, this is hard.”

“It’s just talking, Frank,” Gerard said. He didn’t mean to sound so condescending, but it came out that way. He knew it was difficult thing for Frank; that was another “why” question he had. Why was it so difficult for him to talk and to open up?

“Yeah, and I don’t do much of it,” Frank sighed, pulling his eyes away from the window and taking a sip of his coffee. “As you can probably tell, I’m not exactly a fucking people person.”

“Mm, I may have noticed it a couple times,” Gerard nodded, smiling. “Like, right now.”

Frank cracked a smile and then looked down at the table. Gerard being so nice usually seemed to make everything harder, but this time it was making Frank more comfortable; it was making him feel secure and assured that nothing bad would happen.

“You know last night, before you guys got to the Pencey Prep gig?” Frank asked. He didn’t look up, and could imagine that Gerard nodded, so he continued. “I saw this guy, right? And I swear to God he was your fucking twin from the back. He looked like you and I thought it was you so I was calling you. I kept calling you but you—or the guy, I mean, whatever—the guy who wasn’t you wouldn’t turn around obviously. And I thought you were, like, ignoring me or something, so I just yelled out the one thing I have been fucking needing to tell you.”

Frank stopped there. Gerard had leaned closer and closer with every word he said. He had never seen Frank talk this much, and he sure as hell never thought that Frank would talk this much to him or about him.

“What was it?” Gerard asked, practically on the edge of his seat.

“That…” Frank sighed. The words were settled in his stomach, making him nauseous, and were adamant about not making their way out of his mouth. He had to, though. “I fucking called your name and he didn’t turn around, so I grabbed him and said…I said that I was fucking sorry.”

Gerard was completely silent. He wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting anything, really, but he sure as hell would have never expected that.

“And I am,” Frank said, daring to look up and meet Gerard’s eyes. He had already fucking said it, there was no reason to chicken out now. “I am fucking sorry, Gerard.”

“F-For what?” Gerard said, his voice small and almost unheard. Frank may not have heard it had Gerard not been leaning so close to him.

“Don’t pull that,” Frank sighed. “You know for what, Gerard. You know exactly for what. Fuck. I’ve been such an ass hole, and I mean I’m always a fucking asshole and I don’t give a shit…but I do. I don’t fucking know why, but I do. Maybe it’s because you’re a dumb fuck who keeps getting over it, and it pisses me off that you forgive me when you shouldn’t, but it fucking bothers me that you do.”

“Frank, I…” Gerard shook his head, trying to find what to say, but he had no clue where to even start.

Frank sat back in his chair, forgetting entirely about the coffee in front of him. He absentmindedly ran his thumb over the edge of the table, but kept his eyes on Gerard. If he looked away now, he wouldn’t gain the courage to look back later. So he kept his eyes set on him. He had to do this right or it would be a waste of all the nervousness building up to it.

“I’m not saying sorry for you to forgive me,” Frank continued. “You’ve already forgiven me without me even apologizing. I’m just saying it because…I don’t know, because I should? I don’t even fucking know. You already stupidly forgave me, but now that I apologized, it, like, works. Fuck, I’m not even making sense.” Frank brought a hand up to his hair and scratched at his scalp.

“I forgave you because I cared, you know,” Gerard stated. Frank swallowed and his gaze was wavering, but still maintained. “Yeah, you can totally be an asshole, but you can be nice sometimes. And that made me care about you. And I guess I cared too much to not forgive you? It’s easier to forgive, you know? I mean, it’s not easy to do, but like, it’s easier on everyone.”

“But, seriously?” Frank pressed, leaning forward again. “Why do you care about me? Forget about the shit I did with Blake, any fucking person should do that, so it doesn’t count. What the fuck, other than that, have I done to make you care?”

Gerard stared at Frank for a few silent moments and then he actually smiled. It surprised Frank to see him smile.

“You don’t like talking about anything that’s, like, personal, right?” Gerard asked. “And if it’s personal, you stay the fuck away from it, right?”

Frank nodded.

“But remember when I mentioned my grandma passing away?” Gerard asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, but still gazing into Frank’s as he recalled the distant memory. “I could tell you got really weird, like you wanted to figure out what to say, and you got all careful and shit when you were talking about her and her food. You didn’t have to be careful, but you were. And when you helped me with Blake, yeah you helped me, but you even sat and let me just...talk to you. I'm sure you don't like shit like that, but you knew I needed it so you just gave it to me. Oh, and that one day I showed you all my comics, and like, you weren’t just flattering me or being polite, you were so interested in all my drawings. You took the time to ask me shit about the characters I made up. Oh, and I mean, don’t get me started on you giving up your fucking blanket for me, Frank. And you didn’t even tell me because you probably knew I’d give it back. They're small things, but they mean a lot.”

Gerard let out a loud sigh and sat back in his chair.

“You don’t bull shit, Frank, I know that,” Gerard said, “but that makes everything you do feel so fucking real. So many people can be so fucking fake and keep being fake until they get right into your life, but you? You’re not fake. You don’t fake anything. You’ve been the same person since the start and you’re not fucking changing for anyone.”

“You make me sound like a fucking saint,” Frank said, wanting to almost laugh at the things Gerard was saying. Firstly, he was probably the fakest person Gerard had met; he just didn’t know it yet. Secondly, everything Gerard had mentioned were things Frank told himself not to do because he knew they were signs of affection, but he had done them anyway. Now they were back to bite him in the ass.

“You’re not,” Gerard laughed. “I know you’re not. Who the fuck is?”

They were silent for a few moments. Their eyes would meet occasionally but then quickly latch onto something else, while taking sips of coffee to maintain the silence.

“So why…” Gerard spoke after the silence had drawn out for way too long. “Why’d you…um, why did you…why’d you kiss me last night?”

 _Fuck._ There was the reason Frank had desperately wished he didn’t plan this meeting; that was the one question he didn’t want to answer. Frank shifted in his seat and didn’t even bother trying to hide his discomfort. How the fuck could he? He pursed his lips, biting the inside of his bottom lip, his lip ring lightly hitting his teeth.

“And,” Gerard paused, trying to gather the strength and courage to ask all the questions he had been desperately wanting to ask. “Why does, like, stuff like that, you know, it always happens when you’re drunk. I mean, like, what does that mean exactly?”

“I don’t know,” Frank answered, shaking his head, staring down. “I honestly don’t fucking know.”

“How do you not know?” Gerard pressed.

“I just don’t,” Frank mumbled.

“Just tell me what you’re thinking,” Gerard continued. “Like now, or when you do it...I don’t know, anything.”

“I don’t fucking know,” Frank repeated.

“God, basically what I’m asking is do you fucking want it? Or are you just drunk off your ass and would fuck anything that came near you?”

Frank swallowed loudly and lowered his head even more, only giving Gerard a view of his hair that hung over his face. He was afraid of any sort of emotion showing up on his face, so he had to hide.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard sighed, feeling bad when he saw Frank cower away from the question. “I know that came off as…pissy, or whatever…I’m just trying to understand, Frank, that’s all.”

Frank wanted to slap Gerard for a split second. Why was he apologizing? He hadn’t said or done anything wrong, and yet he was apologizing, and it drove Frank crazy. It drove him insane to see Gerard give up so easily and make it the easiest thing to take advantage of him. Frank knew he could take control of the situation and make it into whatever he wanted, because Gerard would have allowed it. But he wouldn’t do that.

“Don’t apologize,” Frank sighed. “Stop fucking apologizing when you haven’t actually done anything wrong.”

“I just feel bad cause of the way I said it,” Gerard shrugged, wishing Frank would lift up his head so that he could look at him while he spoke.

“Don’t,” Frank said. “Don’t feel bad. You should be talking to me way worse because I’m a fucking asshole. I’ve confused the fuck out of you, I know, alright? You shouldn’t even be here talking to me, I honestly don’t even know why you’re giving me time.”

“I told you, it’s ‘cause I care.”

“That much?” Frank asked, finally looking up at Gerard, eyebrows raised.

Gerard nodded.

“I know you already answered why, but fuck, I don’t get it,” Frank shook his head.

“You don’t have to,” Gerard said lightheartedly. “It’s ok if you don’t.”

“I don’t know how to answer your question,” Frank said. “I don’t know what it is, I don’t know what it means, I don’t know why the fuck I do it, but I know it’s wrong. I can’t just fucking do whatever when I’m drunk and then forget about it. You want it to mean _something_ and I don’t know what the fuck it means, so I just can’t.”

“Frank—”

“Wait, I’m not done,” Frank said firmly, both hands now wrapped around the bottom of his cup. “I blamed you last time, when…you know when…”

"Yeah, I know,” Gerard nodded.

“I blamed you like you fucking forced it to happen,” Frank sighed. “I’m sorry for everything, but I’m fucking sorry for that the most. God, if I was in your place…I don’t know how you didn’t fucking kill me in my sleep.”

“I don’t think your sleep is heavy enough anyways,” Gerard joked.

“Probably not,” Frank laughed.

Frank actually laughed, comfortably, soberly, and it brought the biggest smile to Gerard’s face. It was a genuine laugh, not just a dry or sarcastic chuckle. He was actually laughing and slowly growing more comfortable around Gerard. Maybe it wasn’t the sort of romantically close bond Gerard had hoped for, but he wasn’t disappointed by that. Seeing Frank loosen up and be open around him meant the world to Gerard.

“I forgive you, though,” Gerard nodded. “I do.”

“Thank you,” Frank sighed. “I swear to God, the guilt was fucking killing me. I felt so bad about that every fucking day. And that made me more pissed and more of an asshole.”

“You could have just talked to me,” Gerard said. “Like how we are now. It would have made working and living together so much easier.”

“Yeah, it would have been, but I’m a dumb ass.”

“Well, no,” Gerard shrugged, “I’m just so fucking smart, it makes you look like a dumb ass.”

“Yeah, right,” Frank scoffed.

“You know,” Gerard said, taking on a slightly serious tone again. “It’s ok if you don’t why you did it. Can you just, like, tell me when you figure it out? I mean, I can totally get that you don’t know, but I wanna know when you do.”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed, hating to make any sort of promise to people. It was a bond and that scared him. But it was part of fixing things, so he had to agree. “Yeah, I owe you that much.”

They smiled at each other, then. The two men gave each other the most genuine smiles they could muster ever since meeting. It wasn’t a clean slate, because if it was a new start they wouldn’t have felt the contentment they were feeling now. Their slate had just been damaged and they repaired it, now able to see everything clearly…to see each other clearly.

“So…is that everything?” Gerard asked, smile still on his face.

“No,” Frank shook his head. “I actually need to tell you that I fucking miss your cooking.”

“Yeah?” Gerard laughed. “Well, I can’t blame you.”

“Cocky bastard,” Frank rolled his eyes.

“You should come over to me and Mikey’s place sometime,” Gerard offered.

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Frank accepted, at a surprisingly quick pace. That underlying need to create and maintain distance was still there, but the proximity they had now seemed safe, just safe enough for Frank to make quick decisions without worrying about the aftermath.

“Why aren’t you working anyways?” Gerard asked.

“Uh, calling you was kind of a random decision,” Frank shrugged embarrassingly, scratching at the back of his head. “I kind of just closed up and went to Hambone.”

“I totally wouldn’t have taken you for the spontaneous type,” Gerard smiled. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “Me, too.”

They both silently sipped at the rest of their coffees, which had grown too lukewarm to be delicious anymore.

“I should probably get back to the apartment,” Gerard said, glancing at his watch. He wanted more than anything for this moment to never end, but he was somewhat ok with it being over, because there was nothing sour about its ending.

“Oh, yeah, it’s late, we should get going.”

“I’ll give you a ride home,” Gerard offered, standing up out of his chair. Frank followed suit, and they tossed their mostly empty drinks into the trash can on their way out. “I told you you’d like their coffee.”

“Yeah, I should have known to trust you since you’re the cook,” Frank said, getting into Gerard’s car.

Gerard smiled smugly and headed towards Frank’s apartment. With such a good aura and mood between them, it almost felt regrettable that Gerard would be dropping Frank off. Most of their days living together hadn’t gone well, and they both wished they could have a few nights together with their newly found friendship.

When they arrived outside Frank’s apartment, the only thing that seemed out of place was saying goodbye. Even if it wasn’t permanent, it just seemed as though this moment and day should have no end. But it had to. Everything had to.

“I’m glad, uh, you know, that things are cool now,” Frank said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’m sorry, again, for all the fucking shit I made you deal with.”

“I am, too,” Gerard agreed. “And it’s all in the past now. Oh! You know you should save my number so you don’t have to look for Hambone again. And isn’t he leaving on tour?”

“Yeah, he is,” Frank nodded. “Good idea.”

“I don’t know why you don’t have a cell phone,” Gerard shook his head, reaching to the back seat for his messenger back. “I mean, who doesn’t?”

“Me,” Frank shrugged. He had never found a need for a cell phone; it was just another way for people to attempt to stay connected, and disconnection was the only thing Frank wanted.

Gerard rolled his eyes and pulled a pen out of his bag. He grabbed Frank’s hand suddenly and began writing his number there. Gerard knew he wanted to feel something when he took Frank’s hand, but he thought Frank didn’t feel anything, so he had to force himself not to as well. There was no point in getting flustered over something that meant nothing. So he decided to act usual.

Frank, however, unbeknownst to Gerard, wanted to run the hell out of the car the moment Gerard took his hand. It almost felt like a spark at the sudden contact, like all he could feel at that moment was where Gerard’s hand met with his. Nothing else.

Gerard finished writing his number and then pulled back, throwing his pen back into his bag.

“Make sure you write it somewhere and save it,” Gerard said.

“I will,” Frank nodded, trying to keep his composure and not stare at the hand that Gerard had just been touching. He clambered out of the car, feeling a part of his cover begin to crumble.

Frank waved to Gerard and was heading up towards the apartment, when he heard footsteps approaching him. He reached the top of the stairs and turned around to find Gerard coming up after him.

“I forgot to ask you something,” Gerard said, in response to Frank’s questioning look.

“What is it?” Frank asked, now standing by his apartment door.

Gerard stood in front of him, biting furiously at his lip. He just had one question he had to get out in the open, but it seemed to be the most difficult one of all.

Frank simply stared at Gerard, not having any idea what question could be waiting to come at him. He definitely didn’t expect the stuttered mess that finally left Gerard’s mouth.

“So, I don’t know, you don’t have to, like, answer and you don’t even need to know the answer, so, like, you can say you don’t know, but anyways…um…ok, so I just wanted to know, if, like, I know you said you weren’t, but I wanted to ask again. Um, you're not, uh, gay, are you?”

Frank’s throat dried up on him. He had been so perfectly content with the way things had gone, but now that that question was thrown at him, all he wanted to do was rewind time and knock some sense into himself about calling Gerard. There was no rewind button, though, and he had no choice but to actually answer Gerard.

“No,” Frank said. There was nothing forcing Frank to answer him honestly, though. “No, I’m not.”

“Oh, ok,” Gerard nodded. He swallowed the random lump in his throat; it had formed with the thought that there was no hope for Gerard to have anything more with Frank, nothing like what he had so desperately desired. “I was just asking, you know?”

Frank pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded. He needed to get away from Gerard and into his own apartment before he broke down completely.

“Well, you’re not gay, but I’m pretty sure hugs are still ok,” Gerard laughed. “A hug for a proper fucking friendship, right?”

“Yeah,” Frank laughed dryly. “Yeah, I guess.”

Throughout the day and night, Frank had come up with a lot of worsts, but this had to top it off. The worst moment of the day was this awkward moment of himself and Gerard slowly stepping into a hug. But once Gerard’s arms surrounded Frank’s shoulders and his hands landed on Frank’s back; once Frank’s arms loosely wrapped around Gerard’s waist; once his chin was propped up on Gerard’s shoulder and their faces were right next to each other’s, that’s when he knew that that moment was the best of the day.

Frank’s face was scrunched up in frustration. He hated that he couldn’t allow himself to enjoy this, or to repeat it. He hated that he could easily have this hug and so much more with Gerard, but it was completely out of reach. He knew he could turn his face slightly and place his lips on the warmth of Gerard’s neck, or even pull back slightly and catch Gerard’s lips in a kiss. He wanted to. There was no longer any denying that he desperately wanted to. But he _couldn’t,_ he knew he couldn’t. All he could do was hold on to this hug for as long as he possibly could. This time both his hands were clutched at Gerard’s sides, once again wrinkling the fabric with his tight grip. He didn’t want to let go.

Neither of them wanted to let go, and neither of them wanted to admit that they didn’t want to let go, but they let go. They pulled away from the hug with smiles that were far from content, said their goodbyes, and parted. The previous satisfaction with being friends had disappeared with that hug that reminded them that they each wanted so much more.


	25. Chapter 24: The Catalyst

Frank awoke the next morning and the initial emotion that greeted him was frustration. It clung to his side while he forced his eyes fully open and did laps around his mind as he stared up at the ceiling. It didn’t take long, however, for it to finally be shoved aside by some sort of contentment. It wasn’t the sort of contentment Frank had hoped for, but it was a form of it nonetheless.

Frank had gotten what he wanted. He wanted nothing more than a friendship with Gerard. True, he _needed_ more than that, but he didn’t want it, and so he forced himself to be grateful with what he had. A far off thought rang through his head, hoping that Gerard was feeling the same contentment, because Frank had lost the will and strength to fight off the fact that he actually cared for Gerard. It bothered him slightly, but that was just another thing he wouldn’t actually bother to fight off.

Part of the reason that Frank no longer fought the closeness was because he was beginning to see that Gerard could probably do no harm to him. Gerard was more likely to harm himself before he harmed anyone else. That was pushing Frank to loosen up and let go entirely, but there was still that agonizing fear that wouldn’t allow him to take things any further. Though the frustration left him, the fear and paranoia were much more unyielding.

Gerard, similarly to Frank, was greeted by that same frustration when he woke up, but for entirely different reasons. He wanted, needed, yearned, craved for more from Frank and there was nothing stopping him…except for Frank himself. That reason made the frustration accompany him for a bit longer.

The frustration followed him through his entire morning routine, and it grew slightly as Mikey teased him whenever he walked by. Questions like, “Why did he want your number?” and “Are you his booty call now?” were fired at him in various forms. Gerard didn’t even react anymore; he was hassled with them enough the night before.

The frustration finally began to fade as he was eating breakfast. He made Mikey and himself pumpkin pancakes that morning and they inevitably reminded him of Frank, which demolished the frustration and left him with a sappy smile on his face. He felt like a giddy teenager, but he couldn’t care less. All he cared about was how easily the thought of Frank got rid of any negative emotions he had.

Frank basically skipped through his day…hypothetically. His mood was noticeably brighter. Though he was usually kind to customers on his normal days, his positive attitude and extended small talk with everyone that walked in was uncanny. None of them knew Frank, though, so they saw it as typical behavior associated with a cashier, but the one person who immediately noticed a difference was Hambone. Hambone walked in just before noon to say his goodbyes, and he was shocked, to say the least, when he saw Frank _smiling_ at an elderly woman who was buying a copy of “Seventeen Magazine.” Hambone stood by the door and watched, until the old woman exited the store.

“Did you get fucked?” Hambone asked.

“What?” Frank asked, small remnants of a smile still apparent on his face.

“You look…like…you’re chipper, fucking _chipper_. Are you really Frank Anthony Iero?”

“Yes,” Frank nodded, laughing lightly. “I’m pretty sure no one could pass for me.”

Hambone walked up to the counter and leaned on his elbows, staring at Frank who actually didn’t back away.

“So you didn’t get fucked?” Hambone asked.

“Not that I know of, no,” Frank shook his head, his eye brow raised. But there was still that small fucking smile that was driving Hambone insane.

“You’re glowing like a girl who just lost her virginity,” Hambone said, leaning just a little closer. “What the fuck did you and Gerard even do…?”

Frank’s face actually went straight for a second when he realized where Hambone was going with this. It suddenly dawned on him how bright his mood was the entire day. It frightened and shocked him for a minute, but then he also realized that it wasn’t that bad either. He had no actual complaints, so the smile returned.

“We just pretty much became friends…like, officially,” Frank shrugged.

“And that has you all happy like a Girl Scout who just sold all her cookies?” Hambone asked.

“Girl Scout cookies are fucking delicious,” Frank said. “I don’t think she would be that surprised to sell them all…”

“The point, Franklin,” Hambone said firmly, but even he couldn’t contain the smile that was cracking through his serious front.

“Yeah, I guess,” Frank shrugged, laughing. “It’s been irritating me for a long ass time. I’m glad shit is settled.”

“This is at the just friends phase,” Hambone said, sliding his elbows off the counter and standing up straight. “You’re gonna be like the sun once you finally get to the fuck buddies phase.”

“There are no phases,” Frank said, a slightly more serious expression on his face. “And fuck buddies? I wouldn’t do that…”

“Ah hah,” Hambone laughed. “You wouldn’t be fuck buddies because you care too much. You totally want more.”

“You’re killing my mood,” Frank said, trying not to allow Hambone’s words to nestle their way into his mind. He was content, and he wanted to stay that way.

“Alright, alright,” Hambone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m done. I just came to say goodbye and I’m really fucking glad I did. Happy works for you.”

“Say your goodbyes, you cheesy ass hole,” Frank smiled, rolling his eyes.

Hambone stepped back from the counter and outstretched his arms, waiting for a hug. Usually, Hambone would have to go up to Frank and force the hug on him, but he wanted to experiment with the new Frank. Hambone’s mouth slowly dropped open as he watched Frank step around the counter and approach him. For a second into the hug, Hambone still had his arms outstretched, too shocked to do anything.

Hambone was about the same height as Frank so there wasn’t an awkward stretch or angle with which he hugged him. Frank’s arms wrapped around Hambone’s back, below Hambone’s open arms. When Hambone snapped out of his surprised state, he returned the short hug and when Frank pulled away, Hambone’s mouth was still open.

“That was the first time you hugged me,” Hambone said, dramatizing his shocked expression by clamping his hand over his mouth.

“You’re leaving, ass,” Frank laughed, leaning his back and elbows against the counter. “As much as you annoy me, I’ll miss your idiot jokes when you leave.”

“You know, I really like this side of you,” Hambone laughed. “Make sure it’s still here when I get back.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Frank smiled, shaking his head.

There was a loud, outdrawn honk from outside and Hambone glanced over his shoulder.

“Shit, those are the guys,” Hambone said. “Gotta get going.”

“Fucking kill every stage you get on, alright?” Frank said.

“Fuck yeah,” Hambone nodded proudly, walking backwards towards the door. “Take care, Frankie boy.”

“You, too.”

Hambone left the door and the smile on Frank’s face was still present. The idea that his mood was drastically affected by his and Gerard’s friendship was trying to creep to the forefront of his mind, but he continuously shook it off. He didn’t want his mood to be ruined. He actually liked it.

Frank succeeded in holding onto his “chipper” mood, as Hambone put it, for the rest of the day. No matter how obnoxious some customers were, he dealt with each and every one of them with a smile, which surprisingly, made each situation pass by faster and easier.

Closing time came faster than any other day. Frank was about to start his nightly routine when the door to the store opened and Gerard, awkwardly hunched, strolled down the aisle and towards the counter.

The first thing Frank noticed was that Gerard was dressed differently. Rather than his casual attire of a hoodie or jacket, t-shirt, and skinny jeans, he was dressed professionally. Gerard dawned black pants—that were still fairly skinny, though not as tight as his skinny jeans—a white dress shirt, and a casual yet formal blazer. The skinny tie he had on was undone and hanging loosely around his neck. His hair, which was probably greased back at one point, was messy, probably due to his fingers running through it constantly. Aside from looking uncomfortable in his clothes, he looked unsure of being at the record store. The reluctance on his face made it seem as though he felt unwanted, but couldn’t resist showing up.

“Hey,” Frank greeted him with a soft smile, wanting to make him feel less uncomfortable. _Wanting._

The hesitance in Gerard’s face was replaced by a more genuine smile when he saw Frank actually smiling at him. His posture straightened and his pace quickened. Without even thinking, he made his way over to the counter, got on his tip-toes and pulled Frank into a one-armed hug over the counter. Gerard had a moment of panic, thinking that he had crossed some sort of line of discomfort, but was pleasantly surprised when one of Frank’s hands crept below Gerard’s arm and around his back.

Frank actually smiled during this hug. The stupid butterflies in his stomach didn't deter from the friendliness of the hug. It felt as though Gerard was doing everything to keep it friendly, making the hug a short one-armed greeting, rather than a long and confused embrace. Gerard knew he was torturing himself slightly, treading on a thin line that was bound to give way. He couldn't resist, though. Even if that friendly hug was much too friendly for his liking, he enjoyed it. His positive mindset told him that it was absolutely better than nothing.

They pulled away from the hug that felt like an eternity, but only lasted a second, and smiled at each other for another brief second.

“I swear I’m not the kind of friend who, like, stalks you,” Gerard said, his hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“It’s cool, really,” Frank shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Gerard smiled. “Well, ok, uh, it’s just actually on my way home from work.”

“Oh, you started today?” Frank asked. “How was it?”

“Most of it was good,” Gerard nodded, noticing that Frank was being more talkative than usual. “The office work and stuff is pretty easy, it’s the people who call for their shit that piss me off. I had to deal with way too many douchebags today.”

“Douchebags are everywhere,” Frank shrugged. “We do it everyday, but now you’re getting paid to do it.”

“Good point,” Gerard laughed, nodding. “I guess I didn’t look at it that way.”

Frank just smiled. There was no lid on his mouth that day, and at that point, it definitely was starting to weird him out. He didn’t know if there was an actual filter in the pathway between his brain and his mouth and that was scaring him to no end.

“Well, like I said, I didn’t just come to stalk you,” Gerard said. “I—well me and Mikey—we were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tomorrow night. Just a chill night at our apartment, you can even consider it as—”

“If you say ‘as a thank you’ I will kill you,” Frank said, his serious tone accompanied by a smile.

“Oh, right,” Gerard laughed, looking down at the ground. He looked back up, peering at Frank from behind a few fallen strands of hair. “As friends, then?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “that definitely works. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up on my way, if you want,” Gerard offered.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll, uh, let you close up,” Gerard said, backing away from the counter. He was forcing himself away because he really wanted another hug, but knew that would be pushing it. “See you then.”

“See ya,” Frank waved, and Gerard was out the door.

Both men had stupid grins on their faces once they were out of the other’s sight.

Gerard drove home with the radio turned up to the maximum volume, on a song he didn’t even know. Being just friends with Frank had seemed like such a torturous thing, but after seeing him, smiling at him, conversing with him, that feeling of pure contentment made a comeback. He was content with Frank being in his life in any way, shape, or form. He was so blinded by happiness, he completely forgot that Mikey was in the car with him.

Gerard was only reminded of his brother’s presence when he pulled up in front of their apartment. The radio shut off, and Mikey asked, “Did you have, like, a quicky in there?”

“Ha ha,” Gerard rolled his eyes. “Hilarious.”

“No, I’m serious,” Mikey said, staring at his brother.

“No, we didn’t,” Gerard sighed. “I just invited him for dinner like I said I would, and he said he’ll come over.”

“And that’s it?” Mikey raised his eye brow from behind his glasses, bgetting out of the car before Gerard answered.

“Yes,” Gerard said firmly, once he joined his brother on the walk towards their apartment. “That is it.”

“Ok,” Mikey nodded. “But me and Hambone don’t believe you.”

“Hambone?” Gerard asked, waiting for Mikey to pull his keys out. “What’s Hambone got to do with anything?”

“He texted me,” Mikey answered, pulling out his phone and quickly scrolling through it. He got to whatever he wanted, and handed Gerard the phone, going back to pull his keys out. “That totally sounds like sex.”

Gerard looked down at the phone in his hand and saw a text from Hambone from earlier that day. It read, “Tell your bro that whatever he’s doing to make Frankie happy, to keep it up. I haven’t seen the fucker smile as much as I did today for as long as I’ve known him.”

“Oh,” Gerard said, grinning widely.

“Yeah…oh,” Mikey mocked him, getting the apartment door open.

Gerard handed Mikey his phone and walked into the apartment, ignoring the stare his brother was giving him, because nothing could damper his mood at that moment. Gerard knew that Frank undoubtedly made him happy; there was no denying that his high spirits relied heavily on the status of their relationship. Gerard would never have guessed, however, that he actually meant enough to Frank to be the catalyst for his happy mood as well.


	26. Chapter 25: Relapse to Death

Frank’s following day should have gone by in a flash, considering that his mood was just as bright as the day before. Being, however, that he had something he was looking forward to—and dreading all at once—the day seemed to drag on.

At the start, he was patient and kind to all his customers, but with each glance to the time, and each hope that the day would end, he grew slightly cranky. His day brightened just a bit when he received a shipment of local band CD’s. He went to shelve them and smiled at the sign that Gerard had drawn while he was working there. Frank could never get over how amazing it was. He was also reminded how much he hated stocking inventory, since he hadn’t done it in a while; it had been Gerard’s job for the most part.

After he finished shelving them in alphabetical order, he took one CD from each artist; he needed new music anyways, and when it came to the local music, his boss never noticed the income that went with it. Frank kept the stack behind the counter so that he could give them each a listen whenever he found the time at home. When that exciting part of his day passed, everything went back to being unbelievably dull and slow.

Frank practically jumped out of his chair when he saw closing time finally arrive. He quickly did a run-through of the store, practically sprinting down each aisle. He locked the register and then put the stack of CD’s he’d gathered into a bag.

He waited in front of the register and his day definitely made a turn for the better when Gerard walked through the door of the record store with an excited grin on his face.

“You ready?” Gerard asked, noticing that Frank already had his things in hand and was standing in front of the register.

“Yeah, slow day,” Frank shrugged, following Gerard towards the door.

Mikey was in the front seat, so Frank took a seat in the back instead of the usual one beside Gerard.

“Hey, Frank,” Mikey greeted him, an unusual smile on his face. Gerard rolled his eyes, because even though Frank couldn’t see it, Gerard knew how suggestive that stupid smile was.

“Hey,” Frank nodded, buckling his seatbelt.

“You miss having Gerard work with you?” Mikey asked, still smiling at Frank. “He’s a pain in the ass, so you can have him back whenever.”

“That’s code for he loves having me around him all day every day,” Gerard said, smacking Mikey’s head with his free hand.

“I had to shelve inventory today,” Frank said. “So, fuck yeah, I missed having him there. I hate doing that.”

Gerard tried to contain the huge grin on his face because even if Frank said it in relation to work, Frank still said he missed him and that made Gerard want to squeal like a little girl. He didn’t even feel pathetic because he felt amazing.

“See? I’m so damn helpful, you should be happy to have me, asshole,” Gerard said, glaring at his brother.

“I’m grateful to have you at home to make me some good food,” Mikey admitted.

Frank smiled at that because he was extremely excited to have some of Gerard’s food, whatever it was he was making. The three of them settled into a comfortable silence, topped with the light background noise of the radio softly playing.

Everything felt strange to Frank. He was riding in a car to go over for dinner at his friend’s house. The sound of it made him feel like a teenager again. After all, that was the last time Frank had allowed himself to be sucked into relationships. This one, however, didn’t feel like anything else Frank had experienced. Nothing had felt as genuine as what he had with Gerard…even if it wasn’t exactly genuine. It still felt right. It felt ok. It felt secure.

Frank snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed the car stop. Gerard and Mikey made their way out, and Frank followed.

“The place is not exactly in shape yet,” Gerard said to Frank as the three of them made their way towards the apartment door. “We still have shit unpacked.”

“I didn’t bother making my place look decent,” Frank shrugged. “So you guys don’t have to either.”

“But just so you know,” Mikey said, “all the shit is his. Everything that looks organized is mine.”

“Bullshit,” Gerard scoffed.

Frank simply smiled as the two brothers had a quick shoving competition, each trying to get the last hit, until Mikey gave up so that he could get the keys out of his pocket.

When they finally got into the apartment, Gerard was quick to usher Frank towards the sofa.

“Sit,” Gerard offered in a demanding tone, “and I’ll get you some drinks while the food cooks. I’ll make it quick.”

Gerard scurried off to the kitchen and Mikey took a seat next to Frank.

“He never serves me drinks,” Mikey noted. “You’re totally coming more often.”

“With his cooking, I don’t mind,” Frank nodded.

Gerard quickly sauntered back into the living room, a beer in each hand. He handed one to Frank and one to Mikey.

“Oh, Mikey!” Gerard exclaimed suddenly. “Show Frank your bass. And I’m pretty sure Mikey brought my old guitar. Frank, you should…oh, but don’t, sorry, never mind.”

Frank knew Gerard was about to tell Frank to play guitar for Mikey and he smiled gratefully at Gerard for stopping himself short, knowing that Frank didn’t like playing for people.

“You play?” Mikey asked nonetheless.

“Nah, not really,” Frank lied; he really couldn’t be bothered explaining why he didn’t want to play in front of anyone. Plus, he didn’t know if other people were as understanding as Gerard. “But I still wanna see your bass.”

“Yeah, do that while I get dinner started,” Gerard nodded happily, turning back towards the kitchen.

Mikey stood up, nodding towards his room, and Frank followed. Mikey’s room was messier than the living room, which wasn’t actually messy at all. Both unpacked and packed boxes were scattered randomly wherever they could be stacked without falling. The only thing that looked like it had actually been put into place properly was the bed and its sheets, accompanied by the bass leaning against it.

“Do you play in a band or something?” Frank asked.

“Nah,” Mikey shook his head, placing his beer on the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed. “I used to, but it’s mostly just a hobby. My own thing, you know?”

“Definitely,” Frank nodded, hiding his more than understanding smile with the mouth of the beer bottle pressed against his lips. “You mind playing something?”

“Now showing off,” Mikey nodded, picking up his bass, “is the one thing I don’t mind doing.”

Frank laughed lightly and took a seat on the edge of the bed as well, waiting as Mikey strummed his fingers without actually hitting the strings, contemplating the tune he would play. Frank waited patiently and then Mikey began playing. The tune didn’t sound familiar to him, but it sounded like it could be thrown into a fucking amazing song. Frank could easily catch on to Mikey’s talent even if the sound was nowhere as great as it could have been with an amp.

Mikey kept the tune short, not actually as keen on showing off as he had implied. He had a small, shy smile on his face when he finished.

“Fuck, you’re good,” Frank quickly said. “That probably sounds fucking amazing with an amp.”

“Thanks,” Mikey nodded. “I couldn’t bring it here cause they would probably evict us for too much noise.”

“Did you write that?” Frank asked, referring to the tune he had played.

“Yeah, it’s not much,” Mikey shrugged. “I’m not much of a writer, but Gerard usually does and I’ll play or add on to his ideas.”

“Really?” Frank was surprised. “He writes music?”

“Yeah, he has like a musical calling,” Mikey said, placing his bass back down. “He just never got the chance to do something with it.”

“Huh, I never would have guessed,” Frank shrugged.

Mikey replaced the bass he had been holding with the beer that had been neglected on the floor. He took a long sip, filling the silence with his gulping, before he held it in his lap and looked at the side of Frank’s face. Frank could feel Mikey’s eyes on him, but he felt much too awkward to take a look and confirm it.

“I have a question,” Mikey said, confirming Frank’s theory.

“What?” Frank asked, finally turning to face him. Mikey’s gaze, even though it was interrupted by a pair of glasses, was intense and curious. It made Frank nervous.

“What exactly do you and Gerard, like, have together?” Mikey asked, bringing the beer to his lips again. “I mean, like what’s the label?”

“Uh,” Frank paused. “Friends? Does that even need to be labeled…?”

“So you’re really not anything else?” Mikey urged.

Frank’s eye brows furrowed in both confusion and embarrassment as he shook his head. Confusion as to why Mikey thought there was something worth labeling between Gerard and Frank. And embarrassment about what the two of them had done to make it look that way to Mikey.

“So you’re just friends,” Mikey repeated. “Nothing on the side?”

“Not at all,” Frank shook his head. “I’m not even…I mean…I’m not exactly gay.”

“Oh,” Mikey sort of half-nodded, tilting his head back. Then the realization actually fully dawned on him. “Oh! Oh, hell, fuck, I’m sorry, that’s weird. Wow, it’s pretty weird for me to kind of assume that.”

“No, it’s cool,” Frank shrugged, his lips pressed into a thin line. He scratched the back of his neck as he took a long sip out of his drink. Mikey did the same, and Frank took the silent chance to ask a question. “Why’d you think that?”

“Huh?” Mikey asked, even though he had heard the question clearly.

“Why’d you think there was something…with us?” Frank elaborated.

“I don’t know,” Mikey shrugged. “Gerard doesn’t really get close to people really fast. Everyone he knows he knows through me or something. And I mean it’s not like I have the most awesome taste in people. I was the dumb ass that introduced him to Blake.”

Frank gulped a little too loudly. He had never actually thought of that. Mikey was the reason Gerard met Blake. Of course, that in no way made Mikey to blame, but Frank had a strong feeling Mikey automatically took the blame upon himself. It was obvious in his regretful face as he spoke of Blake at that moment.

“But anyways,” Mikey sighed, running his thumb up and down the neck of the bottle, “ever since he met Blake, he kind of stopped meeting people. I don’t know if it was cause Blake didn’t let him, or if he got so fucking scared that he just decided to give up on new people. And then all of a sudden, he’s buddy-buddy with you. He finally gets the fuck away from Blake cause of you. He gets, like, better because of you. I mean, I guess friends can do that.” Mikey shrugged, smiling lightly. “But, for his sake, even I was hoping it was something...something that wasn’t just friendship. Blake was the first long-term relationship Gerard had and it gave him a pretty fucked up opinion of what it was supposed to be like. He was so happy around you I thought he’d get to see how it is to be in a normal relationship.”

Mikey concluded his speech with one final chug of the bottle, guzzling down the last few drops of beer left. Frank gulped again, tugging at his lip ring with his teeth from the inside of his lip. He felt some sort of unspoken pressure coming from Mikey about what he and Gerard were. It was as though Mikey was desperate for Frank and Gerard to be what Frank had been fighting against.

“Oh!” Mikey suddenly exclaimed, pulling the bottle from his lips with a popping sound. “Fuck, I’m not saying it’s bad that, like, you guys aren’t a thing. I mean you’re not gay, so not like it matters. You know what, scratch all that I said. Gerard needs a fucking friendship right now anyways and nothing else. And you’ve been a good friend.”

“Uh, thanks,” Frank shrugged, the inside of his lip growing slightly sore, so he refrained from picking at it.

“Damn,” Mikey laughed softly. “I just made you feel really awkward. Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s cool,” Frank lied. It wasn’t cool, though; it was extremely uncomfortable. “I’m, uh, starving. We should check on dinner.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Mikey nodded. Frank got up to lead the way, Mikey trailing behind him. Mikey shook his head and muttered softly under his breath, “Why does Gerard need me for making friends? I’m the more fucking awkward one.”

Frank heard it clearly, though, because it wasn’t the softest whisper that had ever been made, and he chose not to comment on it since Mikey probably intended for it to be quiet but failed.

Frank walked into the kitchen and found Gerard bent over, examining whatever he had in the oven. Gerard had slipped off his shirt, much like he used to in Frank’s kitchen, which made Frank’s fingers twitch with an annoying subconscious desire that he was trying to keep under wraps.

“Put a shirt on, fucking pale vampire,” Mikey said, tossing his bottle into the trash.

“You’re not exactly tan,” Gerard replied, standing up straight and shutting the oven.

“Still not as pale as you,” Mikey shrugged.

“You’re supposed to recycle,” Gerard lectured, going to the trash and pulling out Mikey’s discarded bottle.

“Sorry, Mom,” Mikey rolled his eyes.

Gerard flipped Mikey off and took the bottle to the sink. Frank simply walked over to the sink and placed his bottle there as well. Gerard gave him a grateful smile before returning to the oven.

“Food’s ready,” Gerard announced. “Mikey, get the drinks that are in the fridge.”

Mikey complied and headed to the fridge where he pulled out a dish with three cups in it. He steadily carried out the tray and brought his lips down to one of the cups to taste what Gerard had made.

“Oh, fuck yeah, my favorite!” Mikey exclaimed, taking another sip. “Frank, you gotta try the vodka lemonade he makes. It’s the fucking best.”

Frank felt a sudden wave of awkwardness. He shouldn’t have, but he did. He had tried the vodka lemonade and it had been the beginning of a night he tried not to remember. It had been that night that seemed to slap Frank in the face with the fact that he wanted Gerard. It had been that night that he got to have Gerard. And it had been since that night that he continued wanting him.

“Frank?”

Frank snapped out of his thoughts, having zoned out with his eyes locked on a random part of the kitchen sink.

“Huh?” Frank asked, looking up to find that Gerard was the source of the voice that called to him.

“I, uh, I said you can go sit down,” Gerard repeated.

“Oh,” Frank nodded, feeling extremely stupid. “You don’t need help?”

“Nah,” Gerard smiled. “Thanks, though.”

Frank nodded and hurried out of the kitchen. He had gotten way too lost in thought about that night and he knew without a doubt in his mind that Gerard had caught on.

While Frank hurried off, Gerard got lost in his own thoughts while he made the final preparations for dinner. Gerard had seen it clearly. He had seen how the moment Mikey said “vodka lemonade,” Frank seemed to drift off into another world. Gerard could practically see where Frank’s mind had gone, because his mind had gone to the same place. Gerard hadn’t made that drink on purpose; he hadn’t even made that connection until the drinks and Frank were in the same room as him. Gerard didn’t know what to make of Frank zoning out. Whether it was a good or bad thing, he had no idea, but he chose to pretend to be oblivious to it in case it was the latter.

Gerard grabbed his tank top that he had thrown onto the counter, and slipped it on, and then proceeded to get their dinner out. He had prepared deep dish pizza that night. He made one for each of them, his and Mikey’s containing meat while Frank’s was littered with vegetables. They were each steaming as he pulled them out of the oven and set them in a large serving dish. He carried it out to the living room where Mikey’s and Frank’s eyes peered up at the delicious smell that was coming their way. Gerard set the dish down on the coffee table, making sure each plate was placed in front of whoever it belonged to.

Mikey had already put “Dawn of the Dead” on, so they ate their pizza with that movie playing in the background. Frank, of course, having missed Gerard’s homemade meals felt like he was in heaven. The dough was cooked to a soft perfection and the toppings were good enough that even a cannibal wouldn’t miss their heaping of meat.

After they had finished their food and the film was coming close to an end, Mikey’s phone rang and he quickly sat up and pulled it out of his pocket. He was about to answer when his finger froze over the answer button and his eyes widened.

“Fuck,” he sighed and then he shot of his seat, repeating the world louder. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Frank and Gerard stared up at Mikey who was staring at his phone.

“What happened?” Gerard asked.

“I was supposed to meet Alicia at the bar tonight,” Mikey exclaimed. “Fuck! The band she wanted me to see is probably already done! Fuck! She’s gonna kill me.”

Gerard tried to maintain a serious expression, but a smile was beginning to show itself on his face.

“The bar is not that far,” Mikey nodded to himself, “I’m going over there.”

“You can’t take my car, I need it to take Frank home later,” Gerard noted.

“Whatever, I’ll walk…run!” Mikey sighed, pushing past Gerard and Frank and towards the door.

“Hey,” Frank called out, “if you want something to help, I left some new CD’s in Gerard’s car. Give her a couple to soften her up.”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Mikey cried out.

Gerard smiled at Frank’s generous offer, knowing that CD’s were the perfect way for Mikey to get back on Alicia’s good side.

“Here,” Gerard said, pulling his keys out of his back pocket and throwing them to Mikey. “Get the CD’s, but bring the keys back.”

Mikey wordlessly caught the keys and stormed out of the apartment. Frank and Gerard were silent for a minute, just staring at the open door, before they both burst out laughing.

“Man, she has him tied up!” Frank laughed.

“Oh, this is nothing,” Gerard replied, catching his breath. “You should see what happened when he almost forgot their anniversary. I swear to you, he almost cried!”

Frank laughed even louder at that, and when Mikey ran back in to give Gerard his keys back, a couple CD’s in hand, he didn’t even have to ask what they were laughing about.

“Fuck you guys,” he muttered, turning back around and shutting the door behind him that time.

Frank and Gerard let out the ending parts of their laughter, too out of breath to continue any longer.

“He’s such a dumb ass,” Gerard laughed, wiping a finger under his eye, and it wasn’t an overdramatic gesture; he had actually laughed to the point of tears. “Ima go use the bathroom and then clean up.”

Frank nodded, the remnants of his laughter still on his face in the form of a small smile. Gerard heaved himself off of the sofa and when he did, his phone slipped out of his back pocket, landing on the sofa cushion next to Frank.

Frank didn’t notice the phone being there while Gerard was in the bathroom. And when Gerard got back, even he didn’t notice that it had fallen out. He simply gathered the plates and cups and took them into the kitchen. The only thing Gerard noticed was that Frank’s drink was untouched. It was still full to the brim while Gerard’s and Mikey’s had been emptied out entirely. Once again, Gerard had no idea what to make of it, so he tried not to actually think about it.

While Gerard was in the kitchen, Frank focused on the movie that had mostly been forgotten. His focus on it faltered when he felt a vibration next to him. He glanced down and noticed that it was Gerard’s phone ringing next to him. He opened his mouth to call Gerard and let him know, but he froze when his eyes landed on the name that was on Gerard’s screen.

Blake.

Blake was calling. Frank's thoughts immediately began to wander. In just a matter of seconds, Frank was convinced that Gerard had fallen right back into Blake’s trap. Frank thought that Blake had called Gerard one day, worked whatever dark magic he had on Gerard, and had Gerard right back where he wanted him. Frank was convinced that Gerard was simply hiding it from everyone because he knew that no one would approve of what he was doing.

In the seconds that it took for these thoughts to gather inside Frank’s head, Frank had already picked up Gerard’s phone, pressed the answer button, and held the phone to his ear. He didn’t say anything yet. He just listened.

“Hello?” Blake’s voice rang through the phone, making Frank cringe with sheer disgust and hatred. “Hello, Gerard? Are you there?” Frank still maintained silence and he heard Blake sigh. “G, baby, please answer me. Come on, I know you’re there.” Blake’s voice was pleading and desperate. If Frank didn’t know what a sick monster he was, he may have actually felt bad for him. “God, this is worse than ignoring me. Come on, please? Please just say something. Anything. I don’t care. Let me hear your voice, baby, please.”

“Is this the voice you wanna hear?” Frank spoke coldly, the anger in his voice impossible to miss.

“Wha-Who’s this?” Blake asked.

“Frank,” Frank said simply. “We met.”

“Where’s Gerard?” Blake asked, the tone of his voice changing to almost match Frank’s, except that the level of hatred Frank felt could not ever be matched. Blake didn’t even wait for Frank to answer his question. “Listen up you fu—”

“No, you listen up, fucker,” Frank interrupted him, “I’m pretty sure I made myself fucking clear when I said that you couldn’t go anywhere near Gerard if he didn’t fucking want you to. And I’m also pretty sure I said you have to come to me to get to him. And this isn’t my fucking number.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Blake scoffed. “Who the fuck says Gerard doesn’t want me near him, huh? You got lucky once, punk, don’t think you will again.”

“Try me, asshole,” Frank threatened. “Just fucking try me and I swear I will kill you. I swear to you, I will fucking tear you limb from limb and I will fucking enjoy it. You were able to mess with Gerard, but that’s not gonna fucking happen now that I’m here, so get that through your head or I will force it through your fucking lungs. Got it??”

“Frank?”

Frank froze immediately, looking up to the small voice that had called his name. Frank had stood up without realizing it, yelling into the phone. His murderous expression was replaced with a fearful and unsure one as he looked towards Gerard, who stood in the middle of the living room, just staring at Frank and the phone in his hand. Frank’s thumb slid over to the “end” button before he let the phone go, dropping it to the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “I swear I didn’t mean to get into your shit. The phone just rang and I…I don’t even know why I answered.”

“I-It’s ok,” Gerard said, still standing an unnerving distance away from Frank.

“Have you been keeping in touch with him?” Frank asked, suddenly sounding less apologetic as the theories returned to him.

“No,” Gerard sighed. “He’s been trying, though.”

“And you’ve been…?”

“Ignoring him,” Gerard said, but not sounding confident about it which made Frank suspicious.

“Have you really?” Frank asked.

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, crossing his arms defensively yet self-consciously. “Go ahead and look through my phone. Everything is there.”

The proper etiquette would have been for Frank to decline the offer and tell Gerard that he believed him, but Frank never did have any sort of etiquette, so he sat down on the sofa and took Gerard’s phone. He quickly went to the call log, scrolling through the names. Along with Mikey’s name and a few others that Frank didn’t recognize, Frank saw Blake’s name. Every time Blake’s name appeared, however, it was labeled as a missed call; there was no incoming or outgoing call. Every single one had been ignored. Frank let out a sigh of relief and then went to Gerard’s messages. He saw the name and clicked on it, scrolling through the messages that were associated with him.

There were a lot of messages, except that none of them had been sent from Gerard. All of them were messages from Blake that had been ignored. Things like, “Gerard,” “Baby,” “I miss you,” “Text me back,” “Call me,” “We really need to talk,” were sent one after another, but never replied to. A smile crept onto Frank’s face. Gerard had resisted. He had actually not fallen into the same trap that Blake had put him in before. Frank was proud and genuinely happy to know that Gerard had held his ground.

“You really ignored him,” Frank sighed happily. “You didn’t give in. Not even a little.”

“I told you,” Gerard shrugged. “It was hard, but I managed.”

“Sorry,” Frank said, putting the phone down like he was a child caught stealing cookies. “I shouldn’t have answered anyways. And I should have believed you. And I shouldn’t have actually looked through your phone.”

“I told you to, though,” Gerard shrugged.

“Yeah, but I should have believed you,” Frank shrugged back.

Gerard didn’t really say anything. He just nodded, still standing in place. Frank was wondering why Gerard had been keeping such a long distance between them. He was rooted to the spot he was in and it bothered Frank. Typically, Frank would have been glad to have excessive personal space, but the way Gerard was intentionally staying far away from him was making him nervous. Frank glanced up at Gerard and then at the empty seat next to him, occupied only by Gerard’s discarded phone. Gerard caught on to what Frank was communicating with his eyes, so he casually walked over and took a seat next to Frank.

“Are you, uh, bothered?” Frank asked, because although Gerard was sitting next to him, his aura had been thrown off the moment he walked back in and saw Frank on the phone.

“By what?” Gerard asked, tilting his head as he looked at Frank.

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged, not used to carrying this sort of conversation. “Blake…and stuff.”

“Yeah,” Gerard answered almost immediately. “Yeah, that definitely bothers me.”

Gerard had his eyes set forward as he spoke, staring away at nothing in particular, speaking as though he was being haunted by every word that left his mouth. Frank just sat silently and waited for Gerard to continue, which he did.

“He won’t go away,” Gerard said. “Not even, like, he’s in my life, cause I can make sure he’s not. You’re helping me make sure he’s not, and Mikey is, too. It’s more like the mental part? Like he still exists in my head and I don’t know how to make that go away.”

“Like you wanna forget about him?” Frank asked, trying to understand.

“Not even,” Gerard shook his head. “I don’t care that I remember him cause the things you go through make you who you are or whatever. It’s just more like…everything reminds me of him, and then when things remind me of him, I hate that thing because now I see Blake in it. Do you get it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I think do,” Frank nodded. “I do get it. It’s like he just follows you everywhere you go and fucks up everything by touching it with a bad memory.”

“Oh my God, yeah!” Gerard exclaimed, sitting up straight and looking at Frank with wide eyes. He had not been able to put it into exact words. “That’s exactly it.”

Frank just nodded, looking down at his lap. Of course he would easily be able to understand whatever it was that Gerard tried to explain to him. He understood more things than he wanted to.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” Gerard asked slowly, saying each word carefully, as though he didn’t actually want to say whatever he needed to be “honest” about.

“Well I don’t want you to lie to me,” Frank shrugged, giving Gerard a small, comforting smile.

“I saw him just now,” Gerard sighed, looking down at his lap. “I saw Blake the last fucking place I wanted to see him. He fucked up the one thing I really didn’t want him to fuck up.”

Frank just looked at the side of Gerard’s face, waiting patiently. Gerard looked pained by what he needed to say. His mouth had been turned down into a grimace, which was extremely uncommon for Gerard. His mouth was pressed too tightly shut for him to look like he was actually getting ready to speak anytime soon.

“Where?” Frank finally asked. “Or what?”

“Or who,” Gerard laughed dryly. Frank didn’t need to ponder what he meant, because it hit him right away, without further explanation. The reason Gerard had kept that huge distance before sitting down next to Frank. The reason Gerard looked like he wanted to bolt out of the room. The reason Gerard looked like he wanted to do anything but continue speaking.

“Me,” Frank nodded, trying to sound casual. “You see him in me, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard quickly said, still not turning to look at Frank. “That sounds so fucked up, I know, especially cause you helped me get away from the guy. It’s not like you’re like him. I mean, you’re way different, obviously, not even close. It’s more, like, cause when I came out when you were on the phone? You were going at it. And thank you for that, actually. It wasn’t a bad thing! But it’s like…I guess I saw him in the way you went from being so fucking pissed and seeing blood, to just normal? I don’t know if that makes sense.”

Frank just nodded. That’s all he could manage to do even after Gerard just rambled off a fucking speech. Frank couldn’t actually find in him a voice to speak, not that he could actually think of something to say. What was the right thing to say to something like that? Especially because Frank could understand where Gerard was coming from. Gerard was saying Frank’s emotional instability was exactly like Blake’s…and that it scared him. Because friendship or relationship, Gerard didn’t need another Blake in his life. Frank didn’t want there to be another Blake in Gerard’s life. He didn’t want to _be_ another Blake in Gerard’s life.

Frank stared down at his hands that lay carelessly in his lap. He would rather trace over the tattoos on his hands with his eyes than look at Gerard’s most likely confused and apologetic face. Things had been going so well between the two of them. Awkwardness was nowhere to be found, but suddenly, there it was again, thicker than ever before…suffocating.

Gerard had been fearful of Frank when he walked in and heard him yelling angrily and violently into the phone. He had seen Frank lose his temper before, when he attacked Blake outside of the shop, but it hadn’t scared him then. It hadn’t scared him because Gerard was still with Blake, the one person he feared the most. Now that he wasn’t with Blake anymore, he could see all his other fears clearly. His ultimate fear wasn’t to have another relationship like his and Blake’s—even though he did fear that. His ultimate fear was falling for someone, like he did with Blake, and not actually knowing them at all. He was scared of the many sides people had to them. He was scared how each side could be a crippling disappointment to the image he had in his head for those people.

Gerard used to think there was a possibility that he was still ill for the abusive relationship he had with Blake, but now, he knew he wasn’t. Looking at Frank, even if he was just a friend, he knew he couldn’t have another version of Blake in his life. If there was another relapse, if he went back to his old ways, it would be the death of him.


	27. Chapter 26: Confused Affection

“I’ll change.”

The words had been said by both Frank and Gerard at the same exact time. When they each heard the words coming out of mouths that weren’t their own, their eyes snapped up to meet one another’s.

“What the hell do you need to change?” Frank asked.

“I need to get over stuff like that,” Gerard shrugged as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You shouldn’t have to change.”

“No,” Frank shook his head, staring at Gerard with shocked eyes. “ _You_ shouldn’t have to change for anyone. Ever. Especially not when it comes to something like this. You don’t need to fucking compromise or settle.”

“Well why do you need to change yourself for me?” Gerard asked, looking like he just didn’t understand the concept of being selfish in the slightest.

“The people that…” Frank swallowed, pausing what he was about to say. There was a word he wanted to avoid. His mind had just gotten used to its presence, but his lips hadn’t gotten used to uttering it. “The people that _care_ about you, they have to be willing to do anything for you, even if it means changing.”

“I care about you,” Gerard said. “I want to change for you.”

“Gerard,” Frank sighed, shaking his head. “No. You just…you can’t. That’s not how this works.”

Gerard was not trying to be stubborn or just put up a useless fight; he genuinely thought that he should be the one to change. He saw no reason for Frank to change. Gerard thought since he was the one who had the problem, he was the one who needed to change because he was wrong. Because he was always wrong.

“I don’t get it,” Gerard said. “How’s it supposed to work, then?”

Frank laughed a bit at Gerard’s obliviousness. He had the temptation to grab Gerard and shake him by the shoulders until his brain shook hard enough for the information to process.

“You,” Frank said, then paused for a second, contemplating how exactly he was supposed to explain something he thought would be common sense. “You were…fucked over by Blake for years. He took advantage of you. You told me yourself you changed so much for him. You’ve been changing for years. So you don’t need to change anymore. People who care about you know that you’ve been changing yourself for years, so they shouldn’t want you to change anymore. They should change for you and make you happy cause…you’ve been through fucking hell.”

Gerard smiled as Frank spoke to him. Gerard was definitely listening to the words, but he was also focused on the way Frank carried himself with each word he spoke. He would take occasional pauses between statements while he gathered his thoughts; his brows would furrow and he’d purse his lips. Once the thoughts gathered, and he had the words to express them, his expression would soften and he would pick up where he left off. The more scrambled his thoughts, the less eye contact he made, choosing to stare at his hands as they waved in the air with useless gestures. Gerard was just completely entranced by the man who fronted as though he didn’t care at all. What Gerard would see was that Frank cared too much, more than Frank himself thought necessary.

“I get it,” Gerard nodded. “I guess I don’t want sympathy. I don’t want…I don’t want my thing with Blake to be all I’m about.”

“Oh, it isn’t,” Frank shook his head. “But it still happened and you still deserve not to settle with the people in your life. You settled for his fucked up ass because you felt bad. You can’t settle again.”

“I guess that does make sense,” Gerard said, sighing loudly while running his hands through his hair. “I just don’t like the idea of you changing, I guess? I don’t know.”

“I have to,” Frank said, subconsciously digging the nail of his index finger into his thigh, over his jeans. If going to a friend’s house for dinner hadn’t thrown him off enough, this—having obligations and giving emotional advice—sent him on a never-ending roller coaster. “I should…as…as a friend, I should do that for you.”

“Frank, I…” Gerard didn’t even know what he was going to say. He was overwhelmed with confusion about what he was supposed to expect from people, but mostly with gratitude and admiration for Frank and all he was doing for him.

“It’s either you let me do it as a friend, or you end our friendship, and I don’t want the second one cause that means you won’t cook for me anymore,” Frank shrugged, hoping to lighten up the subject. He really couldn’t handle the seriousness of the matter anymore.

To Gerard, though, that was a scary joke. He didn’t want to even think about ending his friendship with Frank. That was why he would have been willing to change, because he was willing to do anything to maintain their relationship, even if it was even less than platonic.

“I think I can work with that then,” Gerard smiled, quickly covering up that small moment of panic.

“Then we have a deal?” Frank said, putting a hand out for Gerard to shake.

Gerard laughed, took Frank’s hand, and pulled him into a hug. Frank didn’t know what to do with his hands. One was placed between their bodies, where Gerard had pulled him, and the other was just hanging in the air. If Frank brought his hand down, it would have made contact with Gerard’s bare arms, so he kept it awkwardly levitating just above Gerard’s skin.

Gerard hadn’t made a conscious decision to hug Frank; it just happened. But he had no complaints about Frank’s chin landing just inches away from the crook of his neck, his short breaths washing over Gerard’s skin. Gerard shut his eyes for a moment as he wrapped his arms tighter around Frank, who made no attempts to move away.

“Thanks,” Gerard sighed, still holding Frank to him, “for being a scary motherfucker to Blake. Even though you feel like you should change it, it’s still that fucking scary side that keeps Blake away. So…thanks.”

“It’s…” Frank was about to argue with Gerard about thanking him, but decided against it. It would be easier if he just took it for once. “You’re welcome.”

Gerard released Frank and then stood up, straightening his hair by tucking the strands back behind his ear.

“Let’s watch ‘Shaun of the Dead’ to lighten up the mood,” Gerard suggested, nodding at his own idea. “I’ll go make popcorn.”

Gerard ran off to the kitchen without waiting for a confirmation, and Frank just sat back in the sofa, sinking into it. He let out a loud sigh and ran a hand over his face. So many thoughts ran through his head, he didn’t even know where to start. The first and foremost was that Gerard had compared Frank to Blake. There was no denying the comparison, either, because it was true. Frank knew he had a temper and he knew that once he gave into it, his anger was all that mattered. He also knew how much that could scare someone like Gerard. With another frustrated sigh, he forced himself off the sofa, and went to the DVD collection to search for “Shaun of the Dead.”

Gerard was in the kitchen, standing in front of the microwave, staring at the bag of popcorn that still hadn’t begun to pop yet. He was so confused. He never thought that he would see Blake in Frank. He knew Frank had a temper, but he never thought that comparison would creep up the way it did and settle as nausea in his stomach. More than that, he was confused by Frank’s reaction. Gerard honestly believed that he needed to get over his fear, forget about Blake, and look past whatever reminded him of that part of his life, yet Frank thought otherwise. Frank thought that he needed to change for Gerard…he wanted to change for him. Gerard was grateful beyond belief, and it made his stomach flutter with the thought that Frank was willing to do that much, but the ultimate confusion was the reason. Gerard wondered why Frank was willing to do that much, when not that long ago, he was too distant to even maintain a friendship.

Gerard shook the thoughts off when the microwave finally finished, the popcorn having popped and stopped in the middle of his mind’s rant. With the fresh popcorn poured into a large bowl, and two beers carelessly thrown on top of the snack, Gerard walked them out to Frank, who had gotten the movie ready.

Gerard took a seat and handed Frank a beer that was covered in salt from laying on the popcorn, took one for himself, and scooted back into the sofa. He placed the popcorn over both his and Frank’s thighs, which were in close enough proximity to create a table for the popcorn, but not close enough to touch.

Without another word spoken, they watched the movie. No words were exchanged and they allowed the sound of the movie rather than their own voices to engulf the room. 

Not even twenty minutes into the movie and they had finished their drinks and snacks. Gerard had set the empty bowl and his bottle on the coffee table, and then sat back, bringing his knees up to his chest, hugging them to his body. Frank glanced at him briefly. Even though the movie eliminated silence, it still felt strangely silent between the two of them. He rolled his eyes at himself for actually questioning silence in the middle of the movie, and then refocused on the screen in front of him.

It was halfway through the movie when Frank felt something hit his shoulder and stay there. His eyes snapped down to see what it was, and he was faced with the top of Gerard’s head. Frank was about to say something, but he heard Gerard take a deep breath that was on the brink of sounding like a snore, and realized that he had fallen asleep.

Frank tried to gently scoot away so that he could lay Gerard on the sofa without waking him. As he scooted away, Gerard’s head scooted off his shoulder and landed near his chest, where Frank caught it so that he wouldn’t be jolted awake. Gerard’s legs, which had still been folded at his chest, fell sideways into Frank’s lap. Frank looked up at the ceiling and sighed. Gerard’s body was practically on top of him. He felt that if there was a God, he was severely punishing Frank right then and there.

Frank looked back down at Gerard. He either had to wake him, or just make his body as comfortable for sleep as possible. The temptation of the latter won him over. Frank lifted his arm out from where Gerard was squishing it, and wrapped it around Gerard’s shoulders. Frank slouched his body down a little bit so that Gerard’s head could rest comfortably on Frank’s chest.

Gerard looked absolutely comfortable. Frank was anything but comfortable. Gerard’s heavy breathing was creating a warm spot over his chest and he could feel his entire body heating up. He peered down at Gerard’s face, which he could just barely see because of the angle.

Gerard didn’t look that much different in his sleep. Most people describe a sleeping face as being “peaceful,” but Gerard had an oblivious expression on his face, the same one he always had when he was awake. Frank subconsciously brought a hand up to the hair on Gerard’s temple, moving it behind his ear so that his face was not covered. Frank glanced at his arm that was holding Gerard. His hand landed just over his naked shoulder and he noticed that it was resting over a red mark. He gently moved his hand and noticed that that mark wasn’t alone. There were about four long lines of red over Gerard’s shoulder. Frank couldn’t even begin to wonder what they were. Had he been scratched by Blake? Or had Blake gripped his shoulder so tight on one occasion that Gerard’s pale skin would forever be imprinted with Blake’s violent fingers? Frank shuddered with the devastating thought, and felt his eye twitch with more resentment for Blake than was already present.

Gerard shuffled a bit, moving his head as his sleeping body tried to get more comfortable. Frank stilled until Gerard did, and then settled his hand back down over Gerard’s shoulder. Frank traced his fingers over the red marks. They contrasted so heavily against Gerard’s pale skin, even if they had had time to heal. They looked out of place, though they were accompanied by other various marks. They just didn’t belong on Gerard. The oblivious and innocent man who’s kindness opened him up to the possibility of being hurt. He didn’t deserve it. If there was one thing that absolutely broke Frank’s heart, it was the thought of Blake beating Gerard to tears, and then Gerard crawling back to him with his forgiving nature.

Frank threw his head back, taking a deep breath to shake off the nauseating image. He could never wrap his mind around it and he didn’t want to. He lifted his head back up and looked down at the marks once more. He ran the tips of his fingers over Gerard’s marked skin and then dragged them lower down Gerard’s shoulder, where the skin was free of any marks. When Frank closed his eyes, it felt the same. He couldn’t feel the scars, so he did just that. He shut his eyes and softly ran his fingers over the skin, unaware of where the scars started and stopped. It all felt the same with his eyes shut. It was smooth beneath his touch, aside from the small goosebumps forming on Gerard’s skin. Frank wished he could run his hands over the rest of Gerard’s skin. He wanted to find every single mark that Blake had left on him, and he wanted to touch them the way he was now, with his eyes closed, making them virtually invisible, eliminating the existence of the pain Gerard was put through.

Gerard began slowly waking up, opening his eyes and motionlessly glancing around to figure out where he was. He froze, though, when he felt a soft hand running over his shoulder. It was comforting, though, that soft touch he felt. The fingers were rough, but the movements were gentle and comforting. Gerard could feel that his entire arm was covered in goosebumps because of it. He didn’t dare move, so he glanced down, only then realizing that he was laying against someone. He immediately realized that that someone was Frank because of the tattooed hand he could see still resting in Frank’s lap.

Gerard was confused. He was more confused than before. Frank could have just moved away whenever Gerard fell asleep. Or he could have woken him up. But he held him in his arms, was touching his skin. Gerard didn’t know what that meant, or if it was supposed to actually mean anything, and he didn’t dare question it in fear of it disappearing. He shut his eyes and nuzzled the side of his face into Frank’s chest, his entire body warm with the soft touch of Frank’s fingers against his skin.

**

Mikey got back to his apartment early the next morning. He had made up with Alicia—the CD’s Frank provided were perfect—and had stayed the night at her house. She dropped him off on her way to work, and he practically skipped up to his apartment, having had what he would call “the happiest night ever” because of course, it included sex.

He unlocked his apartment door, and before he carelessly slammed it shut behind him, he froze, holding the door still so that he didn’t make any noise. Over the course of the night, both men being extremely exhausted and sleepy, Frank and Gerard had fallen asleep on the sofa. Gerard’s head had slowly slipped down Frank’s chest until it landed comfortably on his lap. His legs were on the sofa rather than being bent awkwardly, so he was basically using the sofa as a bed and Frank’s lap as his pillow. Frank had his head back, shut eyes facing the ceiling. He had one hand placed in Gerard’s hair, his fingers running through them at one point, still entangled with a few strands. The other hand was right in front of Gerard’s face, being cuddled by Gerard like it was a stuffed animal.

Mikey was confused. Gerard had been pretty confused, but Mikey was more confused. He was no homophobe, so he had nothing against showing affection between himself and some friends, but the fact that two of them were so comfortable they actually slept that way through the night…that said more to Mikey. Mikey noted that at least Gerard had the better end of the deal, laying down, but Frank had settled for sleeping while sitting just so that he didn’t move away from Gerard. That definitely said a lot more to Mikey.

Mikey gently shut the door with a small smirk on his face. He knew it was about time that Frank got ready to go to work. He strolled past the sofa, and casually smacked the side of Frank’s head while walking by, and hurried over to the kitchen before he was spotted.

Frank spluttered awake, lifting his head quickly and glancing around with a panicked look in his eyes. Before he even realized where he was, he glanced down and saw his hand held tightly by Gerard. In his still-sleepy state, Frank smiled, but then the smile disappeared when he realized they had slept that way the whole night and that he was late for work.

Frank wanted to sit there and enjoy the fact that he could feel Gerard’s steady breaths hit the back of his hand, but he couldn’t. He slipped his hand away from Gerard. Then he pulled his hand out of Gerard’s hair, gently running his hand over the hair once it was out. Gerard, feeling the absence of Frank’s hands, snuggled his face closer to Frank’s lap, and Frank’s breath hitched in his throat. It was way too early for this. There was heat radiating through his entire body as Gerard’s cheek moved just over his crotch.

“Fuck,” Frank muttered, throwing his head back, trying to figure out how to get himself out of the dilemma he was in. Gerard’s hands began clawing at the “pillow” beneath him as he tried to get comfortable, which made matters even worse for Frank, feeling Gerard’s hands wander around his thighs and crotch.

When Frank realized that Gerard’s movements just wouldn’t fucking stop, he lifted Gerard’s head from his lap, scooted himself away, and then let Gerard’s head land on the sofa cushion. Gerard began waking up after that. Frank was just grateful to have his crotch away from him before then.

Gerard rubbed at his eyes, slowly blinking them open. He realized right away that he was sleeping on his sofa, but his mind was still too hazy to wonder why.

“Morning,” Frank muttered, pretending to have just woken up on the other side of the sofa, and not beneath Gerard.

Gerard’s head snapped up at the sound of Frank’s voice.

“Did we fall asleep here?” Gerard asked, his voice still groggy with sleep.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed, yawning. “I guess so.”

“Morning, lazy shits,” Mikey greeted, walking out of the kitchen as if he hadn’t just gotten home. He had a cup of coffee already in hand.

“You better have made extra coffee,” Gerard grumbled, not even responding to his brother’s greeting.

“You can make some yourself,” Mikey said, taking a sip of his coffee and smacking his lips dramatically. “So delicious.”

Gerard shoved his face back into the sofa below him and flipped his brother off.

“Are you late for work, Frank?” Gerard asked, his voice barely audible through the sofa cushion.

“I think so,” Frank nodded. “But it’s whatever. I don’t have anything to do.”

“I’ll give you a ride if you want,” Gerard said, lifting his head up to look at Frank.

“Sure, thanks,” Frank said. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Go to my room, and there’s a door on your right, across from the bed,” Mikey instructed.

“’Kay, thanks,” Frank said, exiting the living room.

“Sleep well?” Mikey asked, once Frank was out of the room.

Gerard looked up at his brother, because he could already hear the suggestive way in which he spoke his words, and he saw that he had a smirk on his face to confirm it.

“Lovely,” Gerard said, scooting himself up to a sitting position. “I have my clothes on, so I obviously didn’t have sex.”

“I never said that,” Mikey shrugged, holding the cup of coffee to his lips. “You know, yesterday I talked to Frank.”

Gerard just stared at Mikey and waited for him to continue.

“I asked him what you guys were,” Mikey continued. “I thought you were, like, together, and he told me he wasn’t gay. But…”

“But what?” Gerard asked, raising an eye brow at his brother. He didn’t even bother berating him for speaking to Frank about that.

“But I’m thinking maybe he is,” Mikey said simply. Gerard had opened his mouth to say something, but Mikey went on before he could. “You were pretty fucking comfortable laying your head in his lap and shit, but he slept sitting up. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that’s comfortable. But he didn’t mind cause your head was all comfortable in his lap. So…gay. Or just gay for you, I don’t know.”

“You’re so,” Gerard began, but he didn’t know what to say. His brother seemed to be overanalyzing, yet it made sense. “My head wasn’t even on his lap when I woke up.”

“He moved you obviously,” Mikey rolled his eyes.

“He said he wasn’t gay,” was Gerard’s simple argument. "And maybe he just did it to be nice? It doesn't have to mean anything."

Mikey paused, and glanced with his eyes towards his bedroom door.

“I just heard the toilet flush,” Mikey noted. “He’s coming. But just think about it.”

And Gerard did think about it. He had woken up and felt Frank’s fingers gently dancing across his skin, while he was pretty sure Frank was awake. If Mikey’s words were true, Frank had also slept uncomfortably so that Gerard could sleep comfortably. Gerard could also remember waking up at some point and feeling Frank’s fingers massaging his scalp, but he wasn’t sure. Frank was obviously not the type of friend to just be casually affectionate, so what was any of it supposed to mean? Gerard’s confusion was left, unanswered, to multiply in his head.


	28. Chapter 27: Dreams to Nightmares

“Did you sleep well?” Gerard asked Frank, driving him to work.

Frank was slouching in the passenger’s seat, looking like he was sleeping with his eyes open. His hair was slightly rumpled, less so than his clothes, which had a wrinkle on every inch of them.

“Yeah, pretty good,” Frank answered, his voice still low with tiredness. “Did you?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. He had one hand on the bottom of the steering wheel and the other hand casually resting outside the driver’s side window. He hadn’t stopped thinking about what Mikey told him. Not for a second. “I don’t know how comfortable the sofa was for you, but I mean, I felt pretty comfortable.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Frank shrugged, oblivious to the hints Gerard was trying to draw out of him. “My neck hurts a little, but other than that, I’m good.”

“If you woke up, you should’ve told me and you could’ve slept in the room or something,” Gerard suggested. His offer was sincere, because he would have given up his room for Frank; that didn't mean he wasn't also still trying to get something out of Frank.

“Nah, it’s cool,” Frank said.

Gerard felt like a popped balloon that had lost its purpose. There was no hope in getting anything out of Frank, especially since Frank probably had no idea what Gerard was getting at in the first place. On top of that, Gerard was beginning to think that Mikey had been overanalyzing, or simply seeing what he wanted to see. Gerard was quick to dwell on Mikey’s theories because he desperately wished Frank was actually gay. That didn’t even guarantee that there would be something between Gerard and Frank just because Frank was gay, but it at least made the possibility more of a reality. For now, however, he decided it was best to leave Mikey’s theories out of his head.

“So, did you enjoy the dinner, though?” Gerard asked. “I mean, aside from the, you know, Blake stuff, and sleeping on the couch.”

“It was still good,” Frank said. “Even if a fucking robber came in and had me at gunpoint, I still would have enjoyed it. Nothing can ruin your good food.”

“You make me sound like a fucking five-star restaurant,” Gerard blushed.

“No, I don’t,” Frank shook his head. “You’re better. Not that I’ve ever eaten in one, but I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re better.”

“Thanks,” Gerard grinned. They pulled up in front of the record store, and for a moment, it felt like old times, like they were about to go to work together. They weren’t, though. Gerard would drop Frank off and leave, and Frank would work through the day alone.

“Hey, uh, Mikey says there’s this band having a gig in a couple nights,” Gerard said, as Frank unbuckled his seatbelt. “It’s supposed to be huge and there’s supposed to be a whole bunch of unsigned guys. You should come with us.”

This was the point where Frank would have attempted to squeeze his way out of a social opportunity, even if it had golden music waiting for his ears to hear. This time, though, now that he had already gone to a friend’s house for dinner, provided emotional comfort, and basically _cuddled_ with his friend, Frank knew there was no point in trying to seclude himself once again.

“Sure,” Frank agreed. “When is it?”

“After tomorrow,” Gerard answered, happy that Frank had easily agreed to join them. “I can come pick you up, if you want.”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind,” Frank nodded.

“Not a problem,” Gerard shrugged. “You know you should get a cell phone or something so I don’t have to stalk you if I need something from you.”

“Maybe I’ll get around to getting one,” Frank said casually, which for Frank was not a usual statement, because the one thing he refused to invest in was a cell phone. But if it meant keeping in touch with Gerard even on the days they wouldn’t see each other, Frank was beginning to think it was worth it. “I guess it would make shit easier.”

“Let me know when you do,” Gerard said. “See you after tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, see you then,” Frank nodded. “Thanks again for dinner, and well, the place to crash, too.”

“You’re welcome,” Gerard smiled. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

With that, Frank climbed out of the car, shut the door behind him, and went into the store to start his day of work. That day dragged on slower than the one before, and he didn’t even have the patience to fake a smile to customers because he just wanted to go home and sleep comfortably. When he lost his patience to the point that he almost yelled at a customer for getting fruity bubble gum instead of minty—he preferred minty—he decided it was time to call it a day. The soreness in his neck had worsened and made him too grumpy to even look anyone in the eye.

It was about three hours before closing time, but he couldn’t take anymore, so he closed early, and started his walk home. A walk in the somewhat cool air relaxed him just enough to allow him to think about things other than the stiff neck he had.

And first in line for those thoughts was Gerard. Of course he would be. He was always there in Frank’s mind, wandering aimlessly until he was allowed the chance to take center stage. There were so many thoughts, Frank didn’t know where to start.

But he started with Blake anyways. Every day that Frank saw Gerard, he grew to hate Blake even more, because the more he got to know Gerard, the more it infuriated him that someone had the heart—or didn’t have the heart—to repeatedly abuse Gerard the way he did. Frank just couldn’t understand it. He knew that Gerard was so nice and selfless that it made it easy for people to take advantage of him, but that still didn’t justify a damn thing. He couldn’t understand how Blake didn’t feel any guilt about what he did. How could anyone harm someone as innocent as Gerard and then repeat it without an ounce of guilt?

Frank shook the thought away because it was doing absolutely nothing to help his grumpy mood. The mere mention of Blake made him feel murderously angry. So he thought, instead, about his friendship with Gerard, and how surprisingly comfortable it was. There were times when that _need_ that Frank felt was overwhelmingly strong and he was just itching to do something about it, but then there were times where he was completely content with the friendship he had going. He never even thought that he would be okay with having a friendship, but he was okay with this one. He was okay with it as long as it was Gerard. And that, as cheesy as it may have been, was enough to put a small smile on Frank’s face and keep it there for the rest of the night.

The content smile remained with Frank as he made his way into the apartment, changed, and got into bed. Even though it was early, he was exhausted, so he slept right away, smile still present.

**

Gerard lay in an abandoned alleyway. He didn’t look hurt or beat, but he looked completely drained of all energy, of life entirely. A black dog, looking vicious like a wolf, crawled over to Gerard’s unmoving body, and gently sniffed around, poking its wet nose along Gerard’s arms and face. The dog stopped all movement suddenly, before it drew its mouth open, and dug its sharp teeth into Gerard’s arm. Gerard screamed loudly, a long and drawn out shout that would churn the stomach of anyone who heard it. His body didn’t move, though. He just lay there and allowed the dog to dig its fangs deeper and deeper into his skin.

Frank was watching it all happen. He didn’t know from where, or how, but he could see it.

“Gerard!!” he screamed, his yell almost as sickening as Gerard’s. “FUCKING MOVE, GERARD! MOVE!”

Frank didn’t know where his body even was or else he would have commanded it to run to Gerard and help him. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't know how to help.

“GERARD!” he continued yelling. “GET THE FUCK UP! GET UP! FUCKING SAVE YOURSELF, FUCK!”

But Gerard didn’t move. And Frank’s voice was growing hoarse. He would do anything to save him. Anything.

Suddenly, there was a blur of white that came charging towards Gerard and the black dog. It knocked strongly into the black dog’s side, and sent it flying away from Gerard, blood flying with it. When the white blur stilled, it was identical to the black dog that had attacked Gerard, except for its glowing white fur in contrast to the black.

The white dog let out a loud growl that made the ground shake when the black dog tried to go near Gerard again, and made the black dog whimper and scamper away, until it disappeared completely, blending in with the darkness. The white dog sniffed around Gerard, gently licking at the wound on his arm, before curling up next to him. It nuzzled its head into his neck and lay completely still next to him, protecting him.

Frank felt relieved. He didn’t know where that white dog had come from, but he was glad it had come to save Gerard. He looked safe with it. It looked like it would kill anything that came near Gerard before it let him get hurt. That made Frank happy…until he noticed the white fur of the wolf suddenly changing colors. The fur around its head was turning red, and the red was slowly spreading through the previously pure fur. Frank noticed, then, that the red was blood. He focused in on the dog and saw that its mouth was clamped over Gerard’s neck, violently digging into it. Gerard wasn’t even screaming, or doing anything. He was just laying there, lifelessly, like he was dead…

“G-GERARD! FUCK! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM, YOU FUCKING MUTT! GERARD, GET THE FUCK UP! GET UP! GET UP! GET THE FUCK UP!”

Gerard never got up. But Frank did. Frank woke up, his entire body soaked in sweat, and he almost screamed Gerard’s name into the darkness of his bedroom until he realized that he had been dreaming. He sat up and looked around the room, making absolutely sure that he was in his home, and not watching Gerard getting eaten alive by a pair of dogs. He let out a shaky sigh as his body fully woke up and he realized it was all just a dream.

“Fuck,” he groaned, brushing his hair off of his sweaty forehead. “What the fuck…”

He dropped back into his pillow, shoving the Star Wars blanket off of him because his body felt way too hot at that moment. That dream, that nightmare, had Frank’s entire body on edge. Even though he already realized it wasn’t real, he still felt a strong sense of fear at the pit of his stomach. Gerard’s scream was ringing through his ears, and his blood was clouding his vision. No matter how many times he told himself it was fake, the scariness of the nightmare would never fade.

He shut his eyes tight and tried to go back to sleep, while also trying to keep his mind quiet. He had been thinking of Gerard before he slept earlier, and the thought of Gerard had made his life feel like a dream, but it had followed him into his sleep and turned his dreams into nightmares. As difficult as it was, Frank tried to keep Gerard out of his mind as he willed himself to sleep because he couldn’t handle another nightmare like that one. He would rather be stuck in the dream he had been in, uninterrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dreams are the seedlings of reality."


	29. Chapter 28: The Visiting Past

Frank got a cell phone. He really hadn’t planned on actually doing it so soon. There was some sort of gravitational pull that practically forced him into it—or at least that’s how he put it in his head. The complete truth, if Frank allowed himself to be honest with his own mind, was that he realized that without a phone, he wouldn’t see or hear from Gerard on a regular basis. He came to this realization about halfway through his day at work when it hit him that he had nothing to look forward to that night. The next night, he would be going to a gig with Gerard and Mikey, but that night, he had nothing because Gerard wasn’t there. And he wouldn’t hear from him until the next night. That meant that unless they had some sort of gathering planned, they wouldn’t see each other.

With that sudden realization, he had an impulse and he went with it. Frank was hardly an impulsive person. Once he made a decision, though, there was no turning back. Just around midday, he closed the shop, and walked down the block to the nearest cell phone provider. He got what he needed quickly and painlessly. He picked out a phone—not too extravagant, just something he could use to call and text—picked the cheapest plan—again, focused around calling and texting—and got a two-year contract. The contract part was weird for him, but he’d rather see it as a contract with a phone than a contract to a person.

In less than half an hour, Frank walked out of the store with a new cell phone in hand. Frank stared down at his phone and realized right away that he wouldn’t be using it that much. Even though he felt stupid for giving in, he couldn't deny that he felt satisfied with the thought that he could contact Gerard whenever he wanted.

Frank made it back to the store and settled behind the counter with his phone. He created his first contact: Hambone. Gerard's number was written on a paper somewhere at home, but he did have Hambone’s number memorized and he knew he would be pleased to finally find out that Frank got a phone. Once Hambone’s number was saved, Frank gave him a call. It rang until the voicemail answered, and Frank figured Hambone wouldn’t answer because he didn’t recognize the number. He hung up and texted him instead. He texted: “Hey, it’s Frank. This is my number now so…yeah, save it.”

About five seconds after he sent the text, Frank’s phone started ringing and of course, it was none other than Hambone. Frank answered, but Hambone beat him to talking before he could say “hello.”

“HOLY SHIT, FUCKER, YOU FINALLY GOT A CELL PHONE LIKE A NORMAL PERSON?!”

Frank pulled the phone slightly from his ear.

“Yeah,” he answered once Hambone finished yelling. “I figured it would be useful.”

“It’s for Gerard, isn’t it?” Hambone asked.

Frank just sighed, because he didn’t really want to answer that question, and he also know there was no point in lying to Hambone; he knew everything already.

“I knew it,” Hambone laughed. “Well, I don’t care why you did it, as long as you did. The gigs have been fucking amazing and I need to tell you about it.”

“Well, now you have my number,” Frank laughed lightly.

“Hold on,” Hambone said, and then Frank could hear him yelling in the distance. “Hey, hey, fuckers, that’s our van! What the fuck?!”

Frank waited for Hambone to drop a few more f-bombs before he got back to him.

“Frankie, I gotta go,” Hambone said, sounding breathless. “Some fuckers are trying to mess with the van. Text me, alright??”

“Ok, kick their asses,” Frank said.

“Hell yeah!”

After that, Hambone hung up, and then Frank remembered that he needed to ask him for Mikey’s or Gerard’s numbers. He texted him asking for the numbers, and then he got back to work. Even though he didn’t actually talk to Gerard throughout the rest of the day, it still seemed to go quicker since he knew that he had the ability to.

By the time closing time came, Hambone had texted Frank with both Mikey’s and Gerard’s numbers and Frank’s contact book went up to three, which was more than he thought he would ever have. Frank didn’t contact Gerard, though, not yet. It still felt weird to him; he didn’t even what he was supposed to say. He decided to wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow arrived, and as soon as he opened up the store, he texted Gerard; he figured that was a long enough time to wait so that he didn’t look too enthusiastic. After many revisions, Frank settled on simply texting: “Hey, it’s Frank…decided to finally get a cell phone yesterday, makes stalking a little easier for you.”

Just a few minutes later, Frank’s phone vibrated with the reply. He smiled as he read it, able to hear Gerard’s voice perfectly in his head. “Finally! Welcome to the world of technology! Stalkers like me are grateful for cell phones, but I’m still a hands-on stalker, so expect visits.”

“Well, you do need to do your job right, and cell phones can’t get everything done,” Frank replied.

“Of course! Cell phones won’t be able to tell me if you showered or not, depending on the smell of your hair,” Gerard texted back.

Frank: “Exactly…. Creep.”

Gerard: “I’m the creepy stalker, you’re the creepy stalkee who enjoys being stalked. I say it’s a pretty even creep game.”

Frank: “Fair enough. But you’re creepier.”

Gerard: “I have no shame. I’m a creep…I’m a weirdo…”

Frank: “What the hell are you doing here? You don’t belong here.”

Gerard: “I can’t believe I actually doubted whether or not you’d know I was quoting Radiohead.”

Frank: “That’s actually insulting.”

Gerard: “Haha, sorry, never again.”

Gerard: “Mikey’s bugging me. We gotta go in early to work so we can go to the gig early. You think you can close up like an hour earlier?”

Frank: “Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gerard: “See you then.”

Frank shoved his phone into his pocket, a stupid smile still on his face. As much as he dreaded having a phone, he actually enjoyed texting more than face-to-face conversations. There were no awkward silences, and he didn’t have to constantly hide the emotions on his face.

The short-lived conversation was enough to keep Frank in that strange uplifted mood for the rest of the day, until Gerard finally walked through the door of the store at the end of the day.

“Hey,” Gerard smiled, stopping in front of the counter. He had changed out of his formal clothes into the more casual t-shirt and jeans he was usually in. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, glancing around to make sure everything was in order. He locked the register, and then followed Gerard to the door, switching the lights off before they stepped out.

They walked to the car, where Mikey was waiting in the front seat. Frank got into the backseat, and they were silent the rest of the way there, the car too loud with a song blasting through the speakers. Frank had never heard it before, but whoever the band was, they were good, so he easily got into it.

They arrived at the bar, and it was unbelievably packed. The line outside seemed to never end, and the entire block was filled with cars and people. Gerard couldn’t even find a place to park, continuously circling the area in hopes of someone leaving

“Alicia just texted me,” Mikey said, thumbs working at his phone. “She said to park in the back, she got us an entrance from there.”

“Damn, you guys always have the hook-ups,” Frank said, as Gerard made his way out of the busy street and onto another street, before turning into the back of the bar.

“That’s the plus side to always going to gigs,” Mikey shrugged. “You find ways to do everything.”

The back of the bar was empty, aside from a few vans that probably belonged to the bands. Alicia was standing at a door, holding it open, and glancing around nervously. When she saw Gerard’s car, she waved them over hurriedly.

Gerard parked his car next to one of the vans and they all jumped out of the car, and ran into the entrance that Alicia had open for them.

“Finally!” she let out a sigh of relief, walking them down a hall. The noise in the bar could be heard all the way to their spot, random guitar riffs and loud chatter making it impossible to hear one another without yelling.

“How the hell do you not get caught?” Gerard asked, raising his voice so that Alicia could hear.

“They usually think I’m a groupie,” Alicia shrugged, glancing back at the three men following her. “So they don’t question me. Then they see me with your scrawny ass brother and realize that he’s a genius who has a hot girl getting him what he needs.”

“Hey, are you implying that I’m not hot?” Mikey asked, looking overdramatically offended.

“I’m implying that I’m hotter,” Alicia laughed. “And you can’t argue with that. Gerard and Frank totally agree with me.”

“It’s true,” Gerard shrugged.

“Sorry,” Frank nodded. “She got you.”

Mikey crossed his arms and continued following Alicia’s lead, who just laughed at her boyfriend’s stupidity. They walked around the side of the stage and squeezed their way into the crowd.

Once they were in the crowd, there was hardly any elbow room. Each of them found a spot—Mikey holding onto Alicia, and Gerard staying near Frank—and unless the crowd moved them, they wouldn’t leave that spot.

“It’s fucking packed!” Frank yelled over the crowd.

“I know!” Gerard replied, leaning down so that he was sure Frank could hear him. “I knew it was big, but this is fucking huge!”

“Why so many?” Frank asked.

“The band is big apparently,” Gerard shrugged. “People have been dying for them to have a gig here.”

“I thought they were unsigned bands?” Frank said, tilting his head slightly to get a look at Gerard as he spoke. They were standing diagonally from each other, but still pressed close together. Gerard’s lips basically spoke right into Frank’s ear.

“There are,” Gerard said. “But the main band playing tonight is signed. They’ve been touring for a while. I’m pretty sure you’ve heard of them.”

“Who—”

Frank’s question was interrupted with the loud sound of a guitar being strummed. The first band had already made their way onto the stage and they were beginning their show unannounced. The crowd went wild over it, and like a united blob, they all began jumping up and down together to the beat of the music.

Frank and Gerard got drawn through various parts of the crowd, but managed to stay with each other the entire time, grabbing at each other’s wrists whenever they got separated. Both of them managed not to get flustered because the heat and sweat of other bodies was making it impossible to think of their contact as anything other than just trying not to get trampled.

By the time the first band finished, and the crowd was loudly cheering, Frank and Gerard had made it back to the front, cheering with the crowd. Frank made a mental note to ask who the first band was since he hadn’t heard their name; they sounded new, but they sounded good, and they definitely knew how to draw in a crowd.

Three other bands went on, each playing three songs. The pattern was the same each time, the music causing the crowd to go wild, Frank and Gerard trying to stay together. By the time the main band was taking the stage, Frank and Gerard were at the front, mere inches away from the stage.

“I only liked the first band,” Frank said, turning his head to face Gerard who was standing next to him. “The rest were ok.”

“I don’t know how you fucking focused,” Gerard laughed. “All I know is they all know how to put on a show.”

“You need more practice,” Frank smiled.

“Come to more shows with me, then,” Gerard smiled back.

“Deal,” Frank shrugged.

They both looked back up to the stage as the main band was about to start. The crowd was going even wilder than before, even though that seemed impossible to do, taking any limits to sound and eliminating them entirely. Frank was waiting to be impressed.

The lead singer had his back to the crowd, engaged in a conversation with the drummer. A hefty body bumped into Frank suddenly, pushing him into Gerard, and spilling an alcoholic beverage all over Frank’s arm.

“Ugh, what the fuck…” Frank groaned, swiping his hand over his drenched arm. He looked around to see who'd done it; whoever it was had blended into the ravenous audience. Gerard was asking him what happened, but there was too much noise for Frank to actually hear him.

All Frank heard was the lead singer of the band finally introducing the band.

“We’re Loaded Animus,” the lead singer announced. Frank froze for a second at the sound of the familiar raspy voice being emitted through the speakers. Frank’s eyes were locked on the moving bodies beside him, unwilling to look up to the stage. “We’re gonna blow your fucking brains out tonight, Hoboken!!”

Frank didn’t want to look up at the stage. He didn’t want to face the actuality of who was on that stage. Staring off at nothing in particular was a lot more pleasant than facing reality at that moment. The entire room was shaking, everyone in the crowd jumping and moving, but Frank was completely still. His whole body had gone stiff and there was an agonizing heat searing through every limb as panic slowly ran through every inch of his body.

Slowly, forcefully, Frank’s eyes found their way to the stage. They locked onto the feet of the lead singer, shuffling just slightly as he belted out lyrics that weren’t processing through Frank’s mind. His eyes raked up the torn-up jeans of the singer, past the sweat-drenched white T-shirt, until they finally reached the face of the last person he ever wanted to see, but the face he could recognize no matter what. Even if it was contorted slightly as he screamed out lyrics, even if it was covered in facial hair—unlike the last time Frank saw it—even if it had aged ten years…Frank recognized it easily and that was exactly why he felt himself growing too nauseous to be in a swaying, constantly moving crowd.

Without regard to Gerard, or anyone, Frank turned around and forced his way through the jumping and raging bodies. He pushed and shoved, getting angry yells and glares from people, but disregarding them. He didn’t care about anything except getting the fuck out, which he did.

Frank somehow succeeded in getting out of the crowd, until he was stumbling towards the bar. His initial plan had been to just get out. There was a dire need to get out of the club so that he no longer had to hear that raspy voice singing and screaming through the speakers, but the lure of alcohol won him over. Why run from the voice when he could simply numb it out entirely, along with the emotions tied to it?

The bar was empty, everyone in the club engrossed in the performance going on behind Frank. Even the bartender didn’t notice Frank at first because he was too busy peering over the jumping heads to try and catch a glimpse of the band. When he noticed Frank, Frank had to yell over the music, asking for the strongest thing the bartender could think of, and to make it stronger.

The bartender didn’t think twice. In just a few moments, he slid Frank’s drink over to him, and Frank dug bills out of his pocket, not bothering to count. The bartender’s look of excitement proved that Frank had given him a more than generous tip.

Frank downed the drink, ignoring the severe burning as it made its way down his throat. Nothing was worse than the burning sensations he was feeling in his entire body. So in two quick chugs, Frank had finished every drop of the drink.

The bartender raised his eye brows in shock. The drink was usually too strong for most people to finish at all, much less that quickly.

Already, the hazy feeling was surging through his body, replacing the nerves, replacing the panic, replacing the self-hatred. It wasn’t completely strong enough, but it sufficed. It was enough to help Frank ignore the music playing in the background. It was enough to drown out the infuriating fear he felt stabbing at the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t enough to drown out the past that came creeping into his present, but it was just enough to drown out the feelings that accompanied it.


	30. Chapter 29: Destroyed Opportunities

Frank stayed at the bar during the entire set. The band played on, the people cheered on, and Frank drank on. He had about two shots of…something, he couldn’t be bothered to figure out what, and he had a couple beers. His body felt entirely limp and loose, but the pain was still there. No matter what he did the pain wouldn’t go away. He dropped his forehead onto the counter after taking another shot, and just sat there, waiting for the torture to be over.

Once the songs finally stopped playing, and people began to take seats at the bar, Frank felt someone grab his shoulder. He lifted his head up lazily and saw Gerard taking a seat next to him. His hair was a mess, he was panting heavily, and sweating slightly from the craziness of the audience and the band's performance.

“Is this where you disappeared to?” Gerard asked.

Frank just stared at Gerard for a few seconds through his heavy lids that were drooping over his eyes, before he dropped his forehead back onto the counter.

“Fuck,” Gerard sighed. “Do you just always have to get hammered whenever you go out? I mean, seriously, what do you fucking get out of this?”

Frank chuckled lifelessly, his hot breath hitting the cold counter beneath his face.

“I don’ get anything,” Frank spoke lazily. Gerard had to lean down to actually hear what he was saying. “I…I fucking forget. Th-Tha’s why.”

“What?” Gerard asked, confused. “Forget what?”

“Everything,” Frank sighed, but it wasn’t loud enough for Gerard to hear. Frank lifted his head off the counter, his surroundings going blurry for a second when he did. “I wanna…fucking leave. I wanna go… ‘m leaving.”

Frank somehow managed to get himself off the stool without falling flat on his face. Gerard just stood up, arms at the ready in case Frank fell.

“You wanna leave already?” Gerard asked, following Frank, who was swaying past people and towards the back entrance.

Frank didn’t answer; he just kept stumbling his way through people who didn’t bother paying mind to the drunken man pushing past them. Gerard just soberly followed, keeping his eyes locked on the back of Frank’s head.

They reached the hallway that Alicia had taken them through earlier. There were a few people there, chattering away in their individual conversations, Alicia and Mikey were two of them. Mikey had his back against the wall and Alicia was leaning her back into his chest, her head tilted up slightly to look at Mikey.

Mikey caught sight of Frank and Gerard, but Frank didn’t notice them. He kept stumbling past them, and Gerard was about to do the same, but Mikey stopped him.

“Hey, where are you guys going?” Mikey asked.

Gerard stopped, looking back and forth between Frank, who was nearing the exit, and Mikey and Alicia, who were staring at him expectantly.

“Frank’s hammered,” Gerard sighed. “Something is up with him. I don’t know what happened. He just disappeared while the band was up, and when I found him, he was drunk and just rambling…and I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’m just-I just wanna get him home or something. Fuck, are you guys staying? Did you need a ride?”

“We’ll get a ride,” Alicia smiled comfortingly at Gerard; she could see how stressed he was getting over Frank’s condition.

“But, Gerard—” Mikey had begun.

“It’s fine,” Alicia interrupted him, glancing up at her boyfriend, then back at Gerard. “Don’t worry about us, ok? Just go make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

“Thanks, Alicia,” Gerard smiled, and then hurried off towards the exit. Frank had already beaten him outside.

“Alicia,” Mikey sighed, resting the back of his head against the wall behind him.

“Don’t worry about him,” Alicia said, patting Mikey’s hand that was resting on her waist.

“I already told you what happened with Blake,” Mikey said. “I don’t want that—”

“Not everyone is gonna be another Blake in his life, Mikey,” Alicia said.

“But did you see that?” Mikey groaned. “Frank’s drunk as fuck, not giving a shit about anyone, and Gerard forgets about everything just to make sure he’s ok. Doesn’t that look really familiar?”

Gerard had done that before. Mikey hadn't made that connection before, though. He hadn't seen how Gerard dropped everything for Frank in the same way that he used to do for Blake.

“You would do the same thing for a friend,” Alicia shrugged. “Who would let someone they know go home alone like that?”

“I know,” Mikey sighed. “But this happens every time. I thought Frank was good for him as a friend, but I don’t know… Maybe Gerard is just too fucking nice for people.”

“He is,” Alicia smiled, tilting her head up to look at her boyfriend. “But we’ll make sure another Blake thing doesn’t happen, ok?”

Mikey looked down at her and nodded, catching her lips in a short kiss.

Gerard made it outside, looking around for Frank in the dimly lit area behind the club. He caught sight of Frank’s swaying body. Frank’s hands were waving in the air as he tried to get ahold of something to keep him standing upright. Gerard quickly ran up to him, and tried to put an arm around him, but Frank shrugged it off.

“Get off,” Frank whined childishly. “Get off, get off.”

“Frank, it’s me,” Gerard spoke calmly. “Come on, I’ll help you get home.”

“I don’t,” Frank shook his head, more times than necessary. “I don’ fucking wanna.”

“You have to go home,” Gerard sighed.

“I don’t fucking wanna!” Frank yelled, forcing his body away from Gerard, in no particular direction. His shoulder ended up slamming into a van, and he just stood there, allowing the pain to jolt through his body. He sighed and rested his head against the cold metal.

Gerard didn’t know what to do. He’d dealt with a drunken Frank before, but this was different. There was something else going on, and he had no idea what. Frank usually just turned into a rambling, lazy mess and that, Gerard could handle. Gerard watched as Frank slowly sunk down to the floor, sitting on his knees and staring lifelessly at the ground beneath him.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke softly, walking up to him. “Come on, get off the floor.”

Gerard took a hold of Frank’s elbows and began hoisting him up off the floor. Frank didn’t fight him off that time. He stared up at him, with large blood-shot eyes, looking absolutely vulnerable. Gerard had never seen Frank this way. It left an unsettling feeling in his stomach, making him want to do anything to help Frank.

“What’s going on, Frank? What’s wrong?” Gerard asked, once Frank was on his feet. Frank allowed his weight to lean on the van, throwing his head back against it.

“I…” Frank spoke, and then gulped loudly, his Adams apple looking like it was struggling within his neck. He took a deep breath through his noise, and opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off by the loud sound of a door slamming open, and chattering voices growing near.

Gerard’s eyes snapped towards the interruption. Frank’s eyes were unmoving, locked on to a patch of darkness past Gerard’s shoulder.

A group of guys and a few women were drunkenly making their way out of the bar. Gerard recognized the guys right away as being the band that had played earlier; the girls were obviously some groupies that they had picked up.

One of the guys, an arm slung around a girl, and his other hand holding on to a plastic cup, spotted Gerard and Frank.

“Hey, fags,” he laughed, “go hook up somewhere else, not our van.”

Gerard ignored the ignorant comment and turned back to face Frank, whose eyes were still unfocused.

“Come on, Frank,” he said softly, grabbing Frank’s arm to pull him away from the van. Frank hardly budged. “Frank, move.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” another voice came, stepping up to Gerard and Frank.

Gerard looked at the man. He wasn’t the same man who spoke earlier, but he was with the band. He was the lead singer of Loaded Animus, and he was standing uncomfortably close to Gerard now, staring at Frank’s face.

“Frank?” the lead singer laughed. “Fucking Frank Iero?!”

Frank’s eyes finally came back to reality, widening, as he turned to face the man addressing him. Frank’s entire body seemed to go erratic. His heart went mad in his chest, his limbs lost their drunken limp and began aching as they tensed over every inch, his throat constricted on him, making it harder to breathe, and he had to repeatedly swallow to keep any bile from creeping up his throat.

Gerard couldn’t see what was happening with Frank, aside from his eyes widening, so he just stared back and forth between Frank and the lead singer, waiting to understand how they knew each other.

“Wow, you haven’t changed much, man,” the lead singer said, a smirk on his face. “You still remember me, right?”

Frank swallowed and nodded, now standing up slightly straighter, and not leaning against the van.

“I figured you would,” the lead singer laughed. “I don’t think you could ever forget.”

“Sorry,” Gerard interrupted, “but…who are you?”

The lead singer had his eyes locked on Frank’s face, but he finally turned to face Gerard, his response delayed slightly.

“My name’s Kevin,” he said, putting his hand out to Gerard.

“Gerard,” Gerard introduced himself, speaking slowly, and reluctantly taking Kevin’s hand. He had a bad feeling about this guy. “How do you, uh, know Frank?”

“Oh,” Kevin smirked, looking back at Frank again. “Me and Frank go way back, don’t we, Frank? What is it? Ten years?”

Once again, Frank simply swallowed and nodded.

“We used to have a, uh, thing back in the day,” Kevin said, winking at Frank. “Right?”

Frank finally spoke this time, leaving his pattern of swallowing and nodding.

“Fuck no,” Frank muttered.

Kevin let out a breathy laugh, his eyes raking over Frank’s body from head to toe. Gerard was growing more uneasy by the second. The guys that were with Kevin were loudly babbling away with the women they had, not paying attention to what was going on.

“Really?” Kevin asked, stepping closer to Frank. Frank immediately took a step back. “I think it was a thing. It was special, too, don’t you think? I was your first, wasn’t I?”

Frank’s breaths were now heaving through his chest. If there was ever a time he desperately wanted to die, it was then. He wished his heart would grow tired of running amok in his chest and just stop altogether. He didn’t want to live through this. He never thought he would have to live through facing Kevin again.

“Fuck off,” Frank sighed, but there wasn’t any form of intimidation in his voice. He looked and sounded weak. “Just back the fuck off. Please...just leave me alone.”

Kevin was about to take a step closer to Frank, but Gerard put his hand out, keeping a space between the two men.

“He said back the fuck off,” Gerard said firmly, for once sounding deadlier than Frank.

“You fucking him now?” Kevin asked, licking his lips and glancing over Gerard like he was a piece of meat. “He’s a good fuck, isn’t he?”

Gerard didn’t say anything to that. He was too confused to say anything. The only thing he was absolutely sure of was that he wanted to get Frank out of there and away from Kevin. He could see Frank’s chest heaving uncontrollably as he was slowly losing his sanity.

“But don’t worry,” Kevin shrugged, “it was a one-time thing for me. So you enjoy this piece of ass all you want.”

Kevin pushed Gerard back, and squeezed his way in between Frank and Gerard, his chest pressing up against Frank’s as he slid past him. Frank turned his head away, holding his breath so he couldn’t even smell him in that proximity.

Kevin smirked at the effect he was having on Frank. He had basically forgotten about him for the most part, but he could see by the way Frank was behaving, that he had left a handprint in Frank’s life. It made the sadist in him smile. Just as he was about to brush right past Frank, his hand slid behind Frank and gave his ass a squeeze that caused Frank to jump and push Kevin away.

“Back the fuck off before I fucking kill you, you bastard!” Frank finally yelled, suddenly finding his voice that had been lost.

Kevin stumbled back from the push, bumping into Gerard who was just about to interfere. Kevin was about to approach Frank again, but Gerard grabbed a hold of his arms and shoved him to the side.

“Hey, what the fuck’s going on?” one of the other members of the band asked, breaking away from the loud chatter he had been involved in.

“Nothing,” Gerard said, grabbing Frank’s arm and dragging him away from the crowd of men who were tuning in to see what Kevin had been up to.

Frank didn’t fight him off. He had found the strength to push Kevin away, but his body was back to being weak and limp, both with alcohol and fear. Gerard pulled a stumbling Frank over to his car, opened the passenger’s seat, and carelessly shoved him in, not bothering to buckle him in like usual; they just needed to get out of there.

Gerard then ran around to the driver’s side, started the car, and sped away from the bar and towards Frank’s apartment. Both of them were silent during the entire drive. Frank was sat up straight, staring ahead, gone astray into his own world within his head. Gerard decided it was best to maintain the silence, so he kept to himself.

When they arrived at Frank’s apartment, Frank tried to get out of the car himself, but he stumbled, almost falling to his knees. Gerard ran around the car and helped Frank up. He pulled Frank’s arm around his own shoulders, and then they made their way up the stairs. Gerard reached into Frank’s back pocket for his keys, unlocked the door, and walked in. Frank was doing nothing to hold his body up; Gerard felt like he was carrying a corpse. His feet were practically dragging over the floor as Gerard pulled him towards the bedroom.

Gerard heaved Frank onto the bed, and proceeded to take off Frank’s shoes and socks. He then removed Frank’s jacket because the sleeve was covered in spilt alcohol. Gerard threw everything on the floor and then reached over Frank’s body to grab the Star Wars blanket that was laying on the bed. He smiled at the recollections that went along with the blanket as he placed it over Frank’s body.

Frank had his eyes closed, but they looked too tensely shut for him to actually be sleeping. Gerard didn’t say anything, though. He simply walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

As he plopped down onto Frank’s sofa, the sofa that had been his bed for a long while, he pulled out his cell phone. There was a missed call from Mikey, so he called his brother back.

“Where are you?” Mikey asked, as soon as he picked up his phone. There was a lot of noise in the background so Gerard figured Mikey was still at the bar.

“I’m at Frank’s house,” Gerard spoke softly, keeping his voice low. “We just got here.”

“Is Frank alright?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah, he’s knocked out,” Gerard sighed. “Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Can you get me out of work tomorrow?” Gerard asked. “I don’t know, say I’m sick, or something. I just need tomorrow off.”

“You just started,” Mikey said. “You can’t be taking a day off already.”

“I know,” Gerard said, “but please, it’s important.”

“Why?”

“I just…” Gerard paused, taking a look at Frank’s bedroom door. “I just need to be with Frank tomorrow. He’s been through some shit.”

“What happened?” Mikey asked; Gerard could detect the tone of disapproval in his brother’s voice.

“I don’t know yet,” Gerard shrugged, laying down on the sofa. “We ran into the lead singer of Loaded Animus outside, and he did something to Frank…I don’t know what. But I guess back when they knew each other, he did something. Frank looked like he was about to fucking pass out when he saw him, Mikey. I don’t know what it is, but I just think I need to be here when he wakes up, so I can at least try and find out what happened. Keep him calm...I dunno, just be here for him.”

“God, Gerard,” Mikey groaned. “I can’t fucking say no to that.”

“So you’ll help me out?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Mikey sighed, “yeah, I will. Just stop being too nice.”

“I’ll try,” Gerard smiled. “Thanks, Mikey.”

“No problem. Keep me updated, alright?”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Gerard hung up and ran his hand over his face, releasing a loud sigh of frustration. So many unanswered thoughts buzzed through his head. What had Kevin done to Frank that scared Frank to that point? What was so bad that Frank still panicked over it ten years later? Kevin said he was Frank’s first, so that meant Frank actually was gay? Had Frank lied about not being gay? What happened that traumatized him to the point of hiding his sexuality from Gerard? Was Kevin just a horrible ex-boyfriend? Or was it worse? Was he to Frank what Blake was to Gerard?

Gerard wanted to barge into Frank’s room and hurtle every one of those questions at Frank; he wanted to know what happened; he wanted to help. It hurt Gerard to see Frank the way he was that night. Frank always had a strong demeanor, but it had crumbled right before Gerard, leaving him looking fragile and vulnerable. Gerard never wanted to see Frank in that kind of pain again.

If Gerard allowed himself to be selfish for just a few seconds, he also wondered about where that left his chances with Frank. If Frank turned out to be gay, did that mean that Gerard had an opportunity to have something more with him? Or did the fact that Frank lied to Gerard because of what happened with Kevin mean that all of Gerard’s chances had been destroyed ten years ago?


	31. Chapter 30: Secured Contentment

Frank woke up sometime in the morning that was way too early. He didn’t even feel the usual rush of the hangover because the only thing haunting him from the night before was his encounter with Kevin. He didn’t have that short moment of consciousness where he was clear of memories from the night before, because Kevin had followed him to his sleep and lurked around his nightmares, haunting him with past memories that he never wanted to have resurface.

Frank’s bed seemed like the best company for the rest of the day. He didn’t want to get up and live through the day; he didn’t want to live. Withering away in his bed and dying slowly seemed to be the best option at that moment.

The need to go to the bathroom won, however, so he forced himself out of bed. A headache pounded around in his head as he trudged his way out of his bedroom. Without bothering to close the door behind him, he stood at the toilet, luckily just peeing and not vomiting for once after a night of drinking. Once he was done, he zipped his pants back up, flushed the toilet, and washed his hands.

Just as he stepped out of the bathroom, he jumped back, clutching at his chest when he saw an unfamiliar figure standing in his living room. He let out a muttered, “Holy fuck,” when he realized that it was Gerard standing in the middle of his living room, peering towards the bathroom.

“Sorry, did I scare you?” Gerard asked, one arm awkwardly hugging his body.

“A little,” Frank sighed, fully stepping out of the bathroom and leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, waited here,” Gerard said. “I waited to see how you’re doing.”

“Fine,” Frank shrugged, hoping that Gerard hadn’t caught on to any details during his exchange with Kevin.

“You sure?” Gerard asked. “I thought, I don’t know, maybe you’d wanna talk when you woke up? I don’t know what happened last night, but…”

“Nothing,” Frank sighed, looking down at his feet. “It was nothing. It’s early. I’m going back to sleep.”

Frank picked himself up off the doorframe. He was about to turn towards his bedroom, but then changed his mind and went towards the kitchen, passing by Gerard on the way there. He went into the fridge, grabbed two bottles of beer, and then turned back towards his room.

“It’s early enough to go back to sleep, not drink…” Gerard noted, just as Frank was about to enter his room.

Frank paused for just a short moment, before silently continuing into his room. He shut the door behind him, and crawled into bed, sitting up so he could properly down his drinks. Just about halfway through chugging down the first bottle, his bedroom opened, and he didn’t bother putting the bottle down to see who it was. There was only one person other than himself in the apartment after all.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke, his footsteps getting closer to the bed.

Frank finally pulled the bottle away from his lips, leaving just about a fourth of its contents. He held the bottle and stared at Gerard, waiting for him to say what he needed to say about how Frank should move on about whatever happened with Kevin.

“Frank, what happened?” Gerard asked, getting straight to the point.

“You walked in while I was drinking,” Frank shrugged, holding the bottle to his bottom lip. “That’s what happened.”

“You know what I mean,” Gerard sighed as Frank tipped the bottle and swallowed the rest of the beer.

Frank didn’t look at Gerard as he placed the empty bottle on the nightstand, and then picked up the second bottle to open it. Gerard, however, lurched forward and snatched the bottle out of Frank’s hands.

“Drinking is not gonna help,” Gerard lectured. “It’s not gonna do anything.”

“It does a lot,” Frank stated plainly.

Gerard felt like he was attempting to carry a conversation with a robot that was designed to give strictly generic answers.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke firmly. “Fucking talk to me about what happened.”

“Nothing fucking happened,” Frank said, a bit of emotion returning to his voice. Anger and irritation weren’t the kind of emotions Gerard was going for, but he would take anything at that point.

“I was there,” Gerard said. “I was there, you can’t lie to me. I watched you act like a totally different person in front of that guy, and then I carried your fucking dead body home and got you into bed. You can’t tell me nothing fucking happened. That can fool anyone, but not me.”

“So what, huh?” Frank scoffed, suddenly putting up all his barriers. Any that he had taken down were stacked once again, and doubled. “Something happened, yeah, does that mean I have to tell you? Fuck no.”

Gerard bit the inside of his lip, taken aback by the harshness of Frank’s tone. Gerard couldn’t allow his emotions to get a hold of him; Frank was being that way for a reason and he needed Gerard’s help.

“No, you don’t have to,” Gerard said, keeping his voice calm. “But you should. It’ll help you.”

“Fuck that,” Frank scoffed again, rolling his eyes and glancing around the room so that he didn’t have to look at Gerard. “Fuck that shit. How the fuck is me telling you my shit gonna help? What the fuck are you gonna do for me, huh? Nothing. Not a fucking thing.”

“You don’t know that,” Gerard said, adamant to keep his emotions from getting to him. Frank could be vacant, but who he was at that moment was not any part of the Frank that Gerard had gotten to know. “You’ve never trusted anyone with anything, so how do you know what’s gonna help?”

“Trusting people is the perfect way to fuck up my life,” Frank said, his voice growing louder. “Thinking that someone is a good person...why would I lie to myself like that? I’m not gonna fucking trust anyone, Gerard, not you and not fucking anyone! So just go! Leave!”

Frank had sat up slightly, but no matter how loud his voice got, he wasn’t intimidating. Gerard saw the weakness behind the defense that Frank was trying to put up. He saw Frank trying to hide his vulnerable side. Gerard knew the only thing that would fuck up Frank was if he continued to hide everything.

“No,” Gerard said. “I’m not gonna fucking go. You need to trust me, not just anyone, but me.”

“Fuck you!” Frank yelled, scrambling to get off the bed. Gerard didn’t step back in fear as Frank approached him, and he had no reason to be fearful. Frank simply tried to snatch the beer out of Gerard’s hands, but Gerard pulled it back and Frank stumbled forward slightly. “If you’re just gonna sit there and fucking lecture me about trust without letting me drink, then fucking get out. I don’t want you here. I don’t fucking need you here. I don’t need your help and I don’t want to fucking trust you. Just get the fuck out!”

Gerard pursed his lips and pondered for a moment how he would get through to Frank. Frank’s words weren’t affecting Gerard negatively, because Gerard knew exactly where they were coming from. Countless times, Gerard had snapped at Mikey when he tried to help him out of his most vulnerable days. And the only way Mikey would ever get through to him was to return the harsh treatment. So Gerard thought he would give it a shot.

“So…” Gerard paused, bracing himself for what he was about to say. “So you don’t wanna trust me?”

“Obviously,” Frank said, his frame loosening up as he thought he’d won the battle.

“You don’t wanna trust me because you think I’ll turn out to be a bad person and a liar?” Gerard continued. “But you know who’s the liar? You. I trusted you and you’re the one who fucking lied.”

Frank opened his mouth to interject, but Gerard beat him to it.

“I asked you if you were gay, and you told me you weren’t,” Gerard cut him off before he could speak. “But it’s pretty fucking obvious now that you are, aren’t you? You were just too ashamed of it. So you lied to me. And the worst part is you know exactly why I asked you and you fucking lied to me. But I still trusted you. And now you won’t fucking trust me?”

“Just fuck off,” Frank groaned. “Yeah, I lied because I don’t like being gay, alright?? But I am! But if I can’t fucking change it, then at least I can deny it!”

“You’re so fucking selfish,” Gerard scoffed. “You lie about it to me just for yourself. You don’t, for a second, think about me? Then what the fuck has this friendship been? Is it some way for you to prove that you can be around a gay guy without fucking losing it?? Was I just some sort of fucking experiment to you?”

“I didn’t fucking want to experiment with you!” Frank yelled, stepping closer to Gerard. He still didn't look the least beat threatening. “You just came and ruined everything!” Frank pressed his index finger to Gerard’s chest to emphasize his point. “I couldn’t fucking hide anything from _you_ , not a damn thing! And now I can’t even hide Kevin! So just get the fuck out of my life, Gerard! I don't want you in it anymore! Get the fuck out of it!”

“Don’t you get it?!” Gerard yelled, swatting Frank’s finger away. “I’m not leaving, Frank! I’m here for you! Gay or not, I’m trying to be here for you.”

Gerard’s voice softened on that last statement, wanting it to actually reach Frank and not just get lost in a haze of emotions. They had been yelling out their emotions but once the words were yelled, they seemed to get lost and replaced by whatever words came next. Gerard at least knew he was getting somewhere if Frank was yelling; the more Frank yelled, the more his shield was coming apart.

“Stop,” Frank practically whimpered, taking a step back from Gerard. He ran into the nightstand, and just leaned against it, his hands gripping onto its edge. He looked down at the ground and swallowed the lump in his throat. “Just stop. Don’t be here for me, don’t try to. Just stop...please.”

There was the Frank that Gerard never thought existed. It was the same Frank that Gerard saw the night before, and it wasn’t a side of Frank he wanted to continue having to see.

Gerard knew Frank wasn't crying yet; he was getting close to it, though. Gerard could tell by the way Frank had quickly cast his eyes downward, the way his jaw was suddenly extremely tense, the way his lip ring was fidgeting because he was most likely biting it from the inside, and the way he kept swallowing loudly.

Gerard hated it. He hated seeing Frank so broken, and he hated Kevin for being the one to make him that way. There were no more words to say, so Gerard acted instead. He suddenly stepped forward, grabbed Frank by his slumped shoulders, and pulled him into his arms. Frank was small and submissive within the hug. He allowed for Gerard to hug him only because he no longer had the energy to fight him off. The warmth of Gerard’s arms wrapped tight around his shoulders, Gerard’s strong body pressed against Frank’s loose frame…somehow it became comforting. Frank’s hands that were just barely resting against the edge of the nightstand, reached up to Gerard’s waist, clutching there for a few short seconds. Then, his hands crept to Gerard’s back and joined there, holding him close.

Frank’s forehead was pressed against Gerard’s shoulder since he was still leaning and slouching slightly. But he liked it there. He liked how he had all the comfort of a hug while still keeping his face hidden. He liked how that was what it took to comfort him, and he liked that no words needed to be spoken. If that was what it would be like to have Gerard be there for him, Frank couldn’t find it in him to complain at that moment.

“We don’t have to talk,” Gerard said, as if reading Frank’s mind. His breath tickled the edge of Frank’s ear as he spoke. “If you don’t wanna talk about whatever happened, if it’s that bad, ok, I get it. But just…just let me help you.”

The inside of Frank’s lower lip was now stinging with pain as he had nipped at it until he could taste of a hint of blood on his tongue. Gerard’s huge was comforting as much as it was weakening. It made Frank want to give in and cry out his past, but with Gerard’s words that served as even more of a comfort than his hug, Frank realized he could just take the hug. It wasn’t the ultimate form of comfort, but it was comfort. So he took it, and just it, like Gerard said he could.

Frank nodded, his forehead rubbing against Gerard’s shoulder. For that moment, just standing there in Gerard’s arms, with Frank being comforted by his own terms, he felt more comfortable than he had ever been in the past ten years. He had no shields up, yet he wasn’t entirely exposed. Gerard’s arms enveloped him so that he could be free to show his pain and still feel safe enough knowing that no one, not even Gerard would see it. In Gerard’s arms, Frank felt secure and entirely content, two feelings that had been foreign to him.

Gerard was about to pull away from the hug, loosening his arms slightly and taking a step back, when Frank’s hands at the center of his back tightened, and pulled him closer, holding him in place. Gerard smiled and stepped back into the hug, willing to hold Frank for as long as he needed.


	32. Chapter 31: Beam of Hope

Frank easily fell asleep for the rest of the actual morning. After Gerard released him from the hug—or rather Frank released Gerard—Frank crawled into bed, pulled the Star Wars blanket to his face, and declared that he needed sleep. Gerard agreed and wished him a peaceful sleep before walking out and gently closing the door.

While Frank slept, Gerard left the apartment for just a short while to go buy breakfast since he knew Frank’s kitchen wouldn’t have much for him to cook with. He bought himself a coffee, but didn’t get Frank one because it would have been cold by the time he woke up, so Gerard figured he would just make Frank a cup at home whenever he did wake. Gerard bought a breakfast platter from a random place that happened to be open for both himself and Frank.

When Gerard got back to the apartment, Frank was obviously still asleep, so Gerard left their breakfast in the kitchen. He’d heat the food up whenever Frank was awake.

Gerard sat on the sofa and looked around the living room, taking sips of his coffee. He’d stayed with Frank for a long time, but he never took the time to really look the apartment. It looked so…lonely. It was obvious from first sight that the person living there didn’t have company often—or even at all.

The sofa and coffee table were old, most likely bought from a furniture store that was liquidating out all their old and damaged stock. By the lack of a dining table, it was apparent that that was the only reason a coffee table was needed, so that it could be used as a dining table when needed. The TV across from the sofa and coffee table was also old; it was the kind with the large back that seemed unbalanced compared to the small screen. The cabinet it was sitting on was used to carry DVD’s. If it wasn’t for the DVD’s, the TV would probably be sitting on the floor.

That was it. That was the living room in its entirety; a sofa, a coffee table, and a TV set. The kitchen, which Gerard had actually gotten more acquainted with than any other part of the house, was in no better condition than the living room. Since Frank ate at work, he didn’t have much food in his kitchen. The two things he never ran out of were beer and coffee.

Then there was Frank’s room. Gerard had been in there a few times, and he could easily remember the details of it—not that there were any to remember. All Frank had in there were his bed and a nightstand.

The only thing in the entire house that contained some personality was the guitar that travelled from one place to another. Gerard looked over to the guitar that was resting against the TV set. Music was the only thing Frank seemed to actually enjoy; he always looked most comfortable at his music store, playing his guitar, or with headphones in his ears. Gerard smiled at the thought. Whatever happened with Kevin had stripped Frank of happiness and of enjoyment, but Frank had held onto his music. Whether or not he acquired his love of music before or after meeting Kevin was questionable, but Gerard was still happy to know that Frank still had _something_.

Gerard took one last gulp of his coffee and then set it down on the table in front of him. He stood up and went to the guitar that he’d been staring at. He picked it up just to examine it and possibly strum a few notes, but once it was off the ground, he noticed something sitting behind it. It was a notebook that looked familiar. Gerard settled down on the floor, his legs crossed and the guitar in his lap, and picked up the book. He remembered seeing Frank writing in it once; he had been writing music in it. There was a part of Gerard that was extremely curious to open the book and read its contents, but there was also a part of him that understood how wary he was about people seeing his work. Music to Frank was what art was to Gerard, and Gerard knew that was something no one wanted to be invaded.

The curious side won over the rational side, and convinced Gerard to look at just one page, and that was it. So he flipped the notebook open to a completely random page, and luckily for his one-page-only rule, there were lyrics and not just musical notes. The lyrics were scribbled randomly on the page, in no particular organization, obviously written on different occasions:

“They never really listen cause they never fucking care  
The way I feel inside they can never fucking hear”

The first two lines were written at the top and then diagonally from them was the simple line, “Life is a fight.” A few lines down, there was another verse written:

“Never found a place I felt I fit  
Never met someone who gave a shit  
But I believe in what we fucking got  
Now we got a chance to set it off  
Let’s take a stand against feeling lost  
This is our chance to set it off”

Right beside that small stanza was another:

“This is for the kids who ain’t got no soul  
Never think twice, got nowhere to go  
This is for the pills that never fucking work  
But it’s hard to see blood on a black t-shirt  
They’ll never understand  
Cause they were understood  
An open minded fake in a bright white coat  
Tell me what you wanna know about my bleeding fucking heart  
I’ll pass all your tests  
Cause I lie like the best”

Gerard finished the last line with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He had just looked so deeply into Frank without Frank’s permission and he was overcome with a strong feeling of guilt. He shut the notebook and put it back in its place along with the guitar. The lyrics he’d read were so morbid. Gerard himself had written some dark things, but nothing like that, nothing so pained. Now, more than ever, Gerard was curious about what happened to Frank, and what darkened every part of Frank’s mind and life. There was almost a sense of hope in Frank’s lyrics, speaking about taking a stand, but that was only a short part of overall hopeless lyrics.

Gerard sighed and sat back, resting on his hands and laying his legs out in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling, feeling so many things about Frank that he couldn’t even begin to sort them out. Guilt, sympathy, empathy, sadness, care, and so many more emotions that could not be categorized into words.

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Gerard out of his confusing thoughts. He turned his head and saw Frank standing at the entrance of his living room, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck.

“Morning,” Gerard greeted him, moving to stand up off the floor.

“Morning,” Frank said, his voice coming out scratchy due to just waking up. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand to his side. “I didn’t know you were here…well still here. Well I didn’t know you were here at all, I kind of thought I was, uh, dreaming or something…”

“Oh,” Gerard smiled a small smile. “Well, I’m here, I was here. I went and got breakfast if you’re hungry.”

“Kind of nauseous,” Frank said, “but…but thanks. You didn’t have to.”

“No problem,” Gerard shrugged. “Sit down. You should eat anyways. You haven’t had much other than beer.”

Frank nodded without arguing and crossed the path between himself and Gerard so that he could take a seat on the sofa. Gerard walked into the kitchen, got the coffee started, and then put their breakfast into the microwave.

Frank had woken up basically hoping that what happened between himself and Gerard that morning was a dream. He’d allowed himself to be completely vulnerable in front of Gerard and it scared him. Now that Gerard had been there for him, and now that Frank had basically given Gerard permission to be there for him, Frank didn’t know how to push him away. He had no choice but to allow Gerard into his life and that was the most terrifying realization he’d ever come to.

“It’s not as good since it’s not fresh,” Gerard said, walking out of the kitchen, two plates in hand. “But it still smells good. I’ll go get your coffee.”

“Thanks,” Frank nodded, trying to fake a smile. Gerard could see through it, though, in the way Frank’s lips were tightly together when he smiled, achieving a slight upturn at one corner, and hardly changing the rest of his face at all.

Gerard just nodded, without pointing anything out, and went back into the kitchen for Frank’s coffee. He brought it out to him and took a seat next to him, not too close but not too far. Gerard still didn’t know what Frank’s boundaries were, and he didn’t want to cross any.

They ate their breakfast of pancakes, hash browns, and a muffin in a semi-comfortable silence. The only thing keeping it from being completely comfortable was Gerard’s curiosity and Frank’s confusion. It left them both too lost in their thoughts to say anything.

“So…” Frank broke the silence after he’d finished his breakfast. He sat back, his coffee in one hand resting against his thigh. “You don’t have work today?”

“I took a day off,” Gerard said, looking over his shoulder at Frank.

“For me?” Frank asked, his eye brows rising slightly.

“Yeah,” Gerard shrugged, facing forward again, finishing the last of his pancakes. “I figured I should, you know, be here. You would have ended up drinking and not eating if I left.”

“You didn’t have to,” Frank sighed, feeling both guilty and grateful for Gerard taking a day off for him. “Thank you, though. Really.”

“It’s nothing,” Gerard said, looking back at Frank again. “What about you?”

“What?” Frank asked.

“Work. It’s kind of late now.”

“Oh,” Frank nodded. “Yeah, I guess it’s my off, too.”

“Your boss won’t mind?”

“Nah,” Frank said. “He probably won’t notice. It’s just a day.”

Gerard nodded and then settled back into the sofa. Silence crept up between them again. After a few minutes, Gerard was the one to break it.

“Do you…do you wanna talk? Maybe? You don’t have to, but if you want to, you can.”

Frank bit the inside of his lip, able to feel the roughness of the spot he’d nibbled on earlier. He looked straight ahead of him, ignoring the fact that he could feel Gerard’s eyes on his face.

“Not really,” Frank finally said.

“Ok,” Gerard nodded. “That’s fine. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Sorry,” Frank sighed.

“You don’t need to be,” Gerard smiled. “I get it.”

Frank finally stole a glance at Gerard, meeting his eyes straight away. They were sincere, the smile on his lips just barely reaching them. A strange sense of ease combined with nerves ran through Frank and he shrugged it off, distracting his eyes by taking a sip of his coffee.

“How about a movie?” Frank suggested, breaking the silence again. They desperately needed something to take up some time and sound. Frank didn’t even wait for an answer; he’d already gotten up and went towards his TV.

“How about a few movies, actually?” Gerard laughed, obviously agreeing with Frank about taking up time.

Frank looked over his shoulder, and actually smiled at Gerard. The smile wasn’t wide and it wasn’t even big enough to be a smirk, but it was there and it was more genuine than the one he’d tried to fake earlier. Gerard understood exactly what he needed, and for that, Frank was grateful.

“How about ‘Kill Bill?’ Both of them?” Frank suggested.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Gerard said.

Frank pulled out the first movie and put it into the DVD player. He then walked back to the sofa and took a seat next to Gerard.

For the next few hours, consumed by one fight scene after another, Frank couldn’t help but think that movies were the best invention ever. They took up time and were an easy rescue from awkward silences.

Near the ending of the second “Kill Bill” movie, Gerard sat up slightly, excusing himself to go use the bathroom. When he turned to look at Frank, however, he saw that Frank had fallen asleep. Gerard smiled and quietly made his way into the bathroom. He finished his business there and then went to Frank’s bedroom to get the Star Wars blanket for Frank.

Gerard went back into the living room, and as gently as he could, placed the blanket over Frank’s body. Frank didn’t even twitch. Gerard took a seat next to him, careful not to cause too much movement. He turned his head to look at Frank. Frank had his head back against the sofa, his face towards the ceiling. Strands of hair stuck to his forward, barely reaching his eyes. His mouth was slightly ajar, loose compared to the tension around his eyes. There was the faintest of wrinkles between his eyebrows, showing that he was stressed even in his sleep.

Gerard didn’t want to see Frank that way. Throwing caution to the wind, he scooted over just slightly and outstretched his hand towards Frank’s face. Making his touch as soft as possible, he slid the hair away from Frank’s eyes. Frank twitched slightly, but that was all, so Gerard continued. He ran the back of his fingers down Frank’s face. His hand was barely touching the skin, so lightly he could hardly feel it. Frank’s expression softened just slightly, but he still didn’t move. Gerard’s fingers reached Frank’s jaw and he put his fingertips out to run over the scorpion tattoo on Frank’s neck.

Gerard didn’t know whether to smile or not as he remembered once placing his lips over that very spot. That night was filled with bittersweet memories that left him craving physical affection from Frank more than ever. His fingers now casually rested over Frank’s collarbone. They slipped further down, moving the blanket slightly so that his hand was resting over the thin material of the t-shirt cover his chest. Pressing just slightly so that his palm was against Frank’s chest, Gerard could feel Frank’s heartbeat drumming against his hand. It ran slightly faster and beat slightly louder than what Gerard would have considered normal, but then again, he had never felt anyone’s heartbeat while they slept so he didn’t know what qualified as normal or not.

The music blaring through the movie suddenly rose in volume to fit the climax of one of the final scenes in the movie. Gerard pulled his hand away and forced his eyes to the TV screen, Frank stirring slightly due to the loudness of the movie.

Frank had been awake for most of the time. He hadn’t fully fallen asleep in the first place—he was more or less stuck in the drifting between being awake and being asleep. He was pulled into the side of being awake when he had felt someone brush the hair out of his face. There was no one else in his apartment, obviously, so he knew it was Gerard. And he allowed Gerard to do what he pleased, a part of him enjoying the gentle touches of Gerard’s fingertips. When Gerard’s hand rested over his heart, which had been hammering crazily the moment he felt Gerard touch him, it took a while for Frank to realize that Gerard would feel how hard his heart was beating, so he “stirred” slightly so that Gerard would pull away.

Frank ended up actually falling asleep eventually. Gerard waited until the movie was over and thought he would sleep as well; neither of them had gotten an adequate amount of sleep the night before. Gerard lay down so that his head was on the opposite end of the sofa, and his feet were pointing at Frank, though his legs were bent at the knees, keeping a distance between himself and Frank.

The two of them slept through about half the day, until Gerard got a persistent call from Mikey that woke the two of them up, telling him he needed to be picked up from work. Gerard voiced his concern for Frank after hanging up, but a sleepy Frank insisted that he would be okay and that Gerard would have to go to work anyways. Reluctantly, Gerard agreed.

“Thanks again,” Frank said, as Gerard put his shoes on at the door.

Gerard glanced up from where he’d been staring at his feet and smiled at Frank.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Gerard said simply.

Gerard looked back down at his feet and got his shoes on properly. Making one last minute decision, Gerard took a couple steps to the sofa where Frank was sitting and took Frank into a hug. It wasn’t as meaningful as the hug they shared earlier, especially with Gerard only snaking one arm around Frank, and Frank being too surprised to hug back, but it still meant something to them both.

Gerard kept the hug short and pulled away smiling.

“I’ll see you around then,” Gerard nodded. “Maybe I’ll stop buy at the store to come see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded back, “yeah that would be cool.”

Gerard’s smile still hadn’t left his face and he awkwardly backed out towards the door, opened it, and then exited with one last wave to Frank. Frank was then alone. While he was alone, there wasn’t much else to do than think. And once he started thinking, there wasn’t much else to do than drink to accompany those thoughts.

Frank couldn’t stop thinking about Kevin. He couldn’t stop thinking about how weak he’d been in front of him, and how all the strength he’d built up over the years crumbled the moment Kevin was in the same room as him. He needed beer to drown out how pathetic he felt. Frank grabbed four bottles, and headed back into the living room. He shut the DVD off since the movie was already over, and turned to a random channel. The local news was playing, a melancholic program to fit his melancholic mood.

Frank guzzled down the first bottle like he hadn’t had anything to drink in ears. It didn’t take long to finish the next three and even though he wasn’t completely smashed like he usually was, it still left him light and hazy, enough to cloud his thoughts without getting rid of them completely. That was enough for Frank, he decided. He nodded into thin air, agreeing with himself. That was enough.

**

The following day, Gerard couldn’t stop thinking about Frank. That wasn’t much of a change from the day before, but it was with more anxiousness as he anticipated going to see him. Gerard wondered how Frank was that day, if his mood had improved, or if he was still being eaten up by whatever happened with Kevin.

Fortunately for Gerard’s curious mind, his shift was earlier that day, so he got off of work midday; that was the perfect time for him to catch Frank at work. Mikey had a later shift than Gerard, so Gerard left, telling Mikey to make sure he had a ride later.

When Gerard got to the store, he immediately realized that it was closed. The lights were off, and he could see that easily from the windows. Haphazardly parking the car, not bothering to straighten it along the curb, Gerard jumped out and went to the door. He pulled on the door, but obviously, it didn’t budge in the slightest. Frank had told Gerard he would be working, so Gerard couldn’t help the worry that settled over him.

He ran back to his car, pulling his cell phone out on the way there, and dialing Frank’s number. The phone rang as Gerard pulled away from the curb and drove towards Frank’s home, but the voicemail answered just seconds later. Gerard sighed and shut the phone, throwing it into the passenger’s seat with frustration. He knew he shouldn’t get worried easily, but with Frank’s condition the day before, he couldn’t imagine how bad it was for him to be completely alone.

Frank wouldn’t call his day bad, but he wouldn’t call it good. The better label was successful. Frank had succeeded in basically ridding his mind of all thoughts completely. He woke up that morning with a headache and a strong desire to just…not live. He couldn’t find proper words for it other than that. Frank just wanted to stop living. He wanted everything in his life to go away, but since none of it would go away, he would. Frank decided, just minutes after waking up, that he would lay in bed, do nothing but drink, until he died. That sounded like the life he wanted to live; there were no interrupting variables. It was just himself and his beer. That was all he needed. Throughout the day, he’d somehow, and for some reason, managed to stumble into the living room, sprawling on the sofa. He had had too many beers to count, but all he knew was that the fridge was nearly empty already. That meant he had drunk a lot. The dizzy and lazy feeling also meant he drank a lot, and he liked it.

A loud knocking at his door pulled Frank out of his gone state. He dragged his heavy-lidded eyes to the door and stared at it, like his stare would get rid of the knock. Instead of the knock stopping, it got louder and a voice accompanied it.

“Frank!” the voice called. “Frank, you in there?”

Frank’s drunken mind had no idea who that voice belonged to, so instead of answering it, he—after a long struggle—got off the sofa, and made his way to the door. Once he had the door open, he leaned on it in need of support because he wouldn’t be able to stand much longer. Frank blinked his eyes at the person in front of him until he remembered Gerard.

“Frank, why aren’t you at work?” Gerard asked.

“Uh,” Frank answered dumbly as the words slowly processed through his head. “Uh, work? Yeah, yeah, work. I was tired…”

“You’re drunk,” Gerard noted, nodding. “You’re fucking wasted.”

“Not…not all the way,” Frank shook his head, looking dizzied by it when he stopped. “Just…lil bit, tha’s all. You-You wanna join, yeah?”

“No,” Gerard sighed, “no, I don’t wanna join. Frank, why didn’t you go to work?”

“A’ready told you,” Frank slurred. “Tired.”

“I’m coming in,” Gerard said, stepping into the apartment. Frank tripped over his own feet as Gerard pushed past him, but then he regained his balance by shutting the door and leaning on it.

“Sit down,” Gerard told Frank, staring at him until he struggled off the door and onto the sofa. “I’ll go make coffee so you can sober up a little bit and actually talk.”

“I’m talking…” Frank nodded, but Gerard wasn’t there to listen; he was already in the kitchen, making a strong cup of coffee.

Frank sat in the living room, absentmindedly staring ahead of him. There was a bottle on the table—there were actually a lot of them everywhere—but it was the only one that still had some beer in it. He smiled, feeling like a sneaky child, and reached for it. He almost knocked it over, but somehow managed to grab it and quickly get it to his lips before it got away.

When Gerard came back with the coffee, Frank had left the empty bottle on the floor and looked innocent enough to fool Gerard.

“Drink this,” Gerard said, handing Frank the mug. “I let it cool down, so you don’t have to wait.”

Frank took short sips of the coffee. It didn’t satisfy him like the beer did, but he continued taking sip after sip of it, until he was nearly done.

“Let’s talk,” Gerard said when he saw Frank’s eyelids become slightly less heavy.

“About what?” Frank asked. He was still drunk, but his speech was improved slightly. The coffee had given him just enough energy to be able to lift his tongue and move his lips properly, but his mind was still nothing but a haze.

“About why you’re home drinking when you should be at work,” Gerard shrugged. “I think that’s a good start.”

“Didn’t feel like going,” Frank shrugged, taking one last sip of his coffee before it was done. He still felt the effects of the alcohol, so he didn’t see how it was supposed to help. He set the mug down on the coffee table, struggling slightly to get it just over the edge so it didn’t tip over when he let go of it. Once it was set down, he sat back, and looked at Gerard. “I was tired.”

“So you stayed home to drink all day?” Gerard asked.

“Yup,” Frank nodded, looking around at the empty bottles thrown around in random places.

“Why?”

Frank just shrugged, pulling his eyes away from Gerard and staring up at the ceiling. He let out a long sigh, his eyes slipping shut for a short moment, before Gerard spoke again.

“Frank, I know I said I wouldn’t make you talk if you didn’t want to, but…” Gerard paused, when Frank rolled his head to the side, his cheek meeting with the back of the couch, and his eyes meeting with Gerard’s. “I want you to talk to me. Let me help you. You can’t just live like this.”

“I like this,” Frank said simply. “What’s wrong with this?”

“You’re just at home drinking, Frank,” Gerard said. “Not even with anyone. I mean getting drunk with friends, ok. But just sitting at home getting hammered alone, during the day, when you should be working, that’s—”

“Just one day,” Frank groaned. “Just today, that’s it.”

“You’ll go back to work tomorrow?” Gerard asked, raising his eye brows in suspicion.

“Yes,” Frank said, putting more emphasis than needed on the letter “s.” He kept his eyes locked with Gerard’s so he could convince him that he was telling the truth. He didn’t know himself if he was telling the truth, but he knew what he had to tell Gerard to get him off his back, so he told him. “I just…I just needed a break for one more day. And then…then I can go back to normal.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded. “Ok, I get that. I just didn’t want to see you…stuck like this.”

“I won’t be,” Frank reassured him, his cheek still resting lazily against the sofa.

“Good,” Gerard sighed. “Good, I’m glad. Do you mind if I stay here tonight? I feel like I should just…I don’t know. Watch over you? Only if it’s okay with you.”

“Nah,” Frank shrugged. “I don’t mind. I like…I like it when you’re here. It’s nice.”

Gerard couldn’t help but smile at that. Frank was drunk and Gerard knew his words didn’t count for that much when he was, but they somehow still brought a smile to Gerard’s face because he knew there was sincerity lingering somewhere beneath them.

Frank shut his eyes again and his head slipped down lower and lower until his temple landed on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard froze and looked down at Frank. He was still awake, his fingers drumming on the couch cushion below him, but he didn’t bother moving away from Gerard. Instead, he scooted closer to Gerard so that their legs were touching and so that his cheek now rested comfortably on Gerard’s shoulder. Gerard gulped, but didn’t move.

Frank’s fingers that had been drumming on the sofa moved off of it since there was no space between himself and Gerard. His fingers had moved to his own thigh, but they slowly slid towards Gerard’s, casually running down his thigh, towards his knee, and then back to his own thigh before they could reach more private territory.

“Frank…” Gerard sighed.

“I know,” Frank sighed back. There was a hint of a smile in the words he spoke, but Gerard couldn’t see it. “I shouldn’t.”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “Yeah, you shouldn’t.”

Frank’s fingers didn’t return to Gerard, but Frank’s body didn’t move away. He still sat close to him, resting his cheek against his shoulder, keeping the sides of their bodies touching.

“Do you want to, though?” Gerard asked, gulping right after the words left his mouth. He shouldn’t have been pushing a drunken Frank in that direction, and he knew it, but the temptation was too strong for him to resist. With Frank so close to him, Gerard couldn’t help but crave and yearn for more.

“I shouldn’t,” Frank said, shaking his head just slightly, causing his cheek to brush against Gerard’s shoulder. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Gerard asked.

“Not a good idea,” Frank said simply.

“But you want to?” Gerard pressed.

Frank shrugged with the one shoulder that wasn’t pressed into the side of Gerard’s body. He didn’t say no; he could have, but he didn’t, and that was a push for Gerard. That was a push to get something out of Frank. Gerard wouldn’t do anything major while he was sober and Frank was drunk—that would basically be abuse—but all he wanted was a reaction out of Frank. Gerard wanted something that would tell him whether or not he had a chance with Frank now that he knew he was gay. Gerard wanted to see if there was a beam of hope somewhere, even in the unreachable far distance. He just wanted some of its light to hold on to, no matter how dim.


	33. Chapter 32: A Cycle

Gerard’s hands were resting in his lap. Slowly, nervously, but smoothly, he scooted the hand that was closest to Frank over until his pinky rested on the edge of Frank’s thigh. Gerard waited for a reaction, but Frank didn’t move, so Gerard continued the migration of his hand until it lay entirely on Frank’s thigh and his pinky was now side-by-side to Frank’s. Frank’s head moved slightly against Gerard’s shoulder, tilting upwards just enough for his eyes to glance up at Gerard. Gerard felt the movement, but didn’t glance down because he knew if he saw Frank’s eyes, he’d lose his confidence.

Staring straight ahead, Gerard’s hand moved until it lay atop Frank’s. Gerard’s fingers touched the roof of Frank’s hand, just where his hand and wrist met, and slid his fingers up until they slid in between Frank’s. Frank didn’t move away; he just held completely still, so Gerard took that as a sign of approval.

Gerard’s palm was pressed into the roof of Frank’s hand, and his fingertips met the center of Frank’s palm. He gave Frank’s hand a gentle squeeze until Frank’s hand reacted, his fingers bending so that they held Gerard’s fingers against his palm. A small smile crept onto Gerard’s face; all signs were pointing towards hope, and he couldn’t help the excitement that was surging through his body.

Gerard gently ran his thumb over the side of Frank’s pinky. Gerard wanted more, but he wasn’t sure how much more he should go for while Frank was still drunk. Frank wanted more, and he didn’t bother thinking about limits.

His and Gerard’s fingers still wrapped tightly together, Frank used the other hand to reach across Gerard’s body and take hold of his shoulder. Frank used his grip on Gerard’s shoulder to pull himself up so that more of his body was resting against Gerard’s side. He had lifted himself up enough so that his nose was pressed to the crook of Gerard’s neck, and his forehead on the side of Gerard’s neck.

Gerard brought a hand to Frank’s side to hold him up and keep him close. Once he knew Frank wasn’t going anywhere, his hand slid up Frank’s side, past his shoulder, and to his neck. His palm rested against Frank’s neck, while his thumb pressed against Frank’s jaw to lift his face up. Their eyes met, and though Gerard desperately wanted to press his lips to Frank’s, he knew he couldn’t. That was something he needed Frank to be sober for, and Gerard was reminded of that when the eyes he was looking into looked completely out of reach. Frank wasn’t entirely there, so even though Gerard was taking Frank’s advances as signs of hope, he still couldn’t attach much meaning to what was happening.

Instead of going for Frank’s lips, Gerard slid his palm back down to Frank’s shoulder, but didn’t leave Frank’s neck bare for long. Gerard’s lips pressed against Frank’s scorpion tattoo, pecking it just once, and waiting for a reaction. The reaction came in the form of Frank releasing a shaky sigh that meant Gerard could continue, so he did. Gerard pressed chaste kisses up the side of Frank’s neck, behind his ear, and then back down to Frank’s tattoo. Gerard parted his lips just slightly, allowing his hot breath to hit Frank’s neck, before his tongue reached out to taste Frank’s skin.

Frank shivered at the feeling of Gerard’s tongue slowly roaming his skin. Frank’s grip on Gerard’s shoulder tightened, his fingers curling around the fabric of Gerard’s dress shirt. Frank was getting lost, goosebumps littering his body, heat circulating in his stomach, still-present alcohol intensifying everything he felt. Frank didn’t want to lose himself completely; he knew that if he gave in to what his body wanted, the alcohol wouldn’t give him the option to back out later, so he had to stop now.

“Gerard,” Frank groaned, clenching his eyes shut tight. Gerard hummed against Frank’s neck in response, his wet lips and tongue still getting acquainted with Frank’s skin; it was making it hard for Frank to speak. Frank swallowed loudly, forcing the words out of his drying throat. “Gerard, stop.”

Gerard did stop, but he didn’t move away. He still had his lips just behind Frank’s ear.

“Why?” he mumbled, his breath and the vibration of his voice hitting the back of Frank’s ear.

“B-Because,” Frank sighed. “We…Just stop.”

“You seemed,” Gerard paused, pressing a light kiss where his lips were placed, and then continuing, “like you were enjoying it.”

“I-I don’t know,” Frank sighed. He was enjoying it and he knew he was, but he couldn’t give in to it. He was too confused to do anything at that moment, and the loud alcohol trying to cloud his judgment was not making matters any clearer.

At the sound of Frank’s confused and struggling voice, Gerard came to his senses. He had been selfish and impulsive in making those moves on Frank during such a sensitive time, and he knew he was wrong. The temptation had just been too strong, but at least Gerard got out of it some hope that he had desperately needed.

“You know you liked it, though,” Gerard whispered, chuckling and pressing one last kiss to Frank’s neck. He pulled back easily, Frank’s grip having immediately loosened from his shoulder and hand. Gerard stood up, too embarrassed—and also tempted—to look at Frank. “I’m gonna go take a quick shower.”

Gerard, without taking a single glance at Frank, made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Having avoided looking at Frank at all costs, Gerard didn’t see the expression on Frank’s face. Gerard didn’t see that Frank looked lost, pained, and like he was in a completely different place than the sofa in his home. And Frank was in a different place…

Frank was sent back to a distant memory, the worst of all the memories he had, and his sudden vivid flashback was triggered by the last words Gerard had said to him. _You know you liked it…_ It made Frank feel physically sick. He stood up abruptly, tripping clumsily over his feet until his knees hit the edge of the coffee table, but he didn’t even wince or hiss in pain. He just stumbled the rest of the way until he reached the kitchen. He needed a drink. When he reached the fridge, he forced it open, finding that he only had two bottles left.

“Fuck!” he yelled, slamming his fist into the freezer door. That wouldn’t be enough. Two wouldn’t be enough. But he had no choice, so he pulled a bottle out.

Struggling with his shaking hands, Frank finally got the bottle open, and brought it to his lips, chugging it down without a glimpse of hesitation. The bottle was done and the alcohol was gone before he even felt the slightest bit hazy. It wasn’t enough. He threw the bottle at the counter, the glass flying off in different directions, sharp shards scattering around the kitchen.

Frank spun around, opened the fridge again, and attacked the second bottle the same way he did the first. Still, it wasn’t enough, and the bottle in his hand joined the scattered pieces of glass glistening against the countertops and kitchen floor.

Frank was facing the closed fridge, staring at it as if it held all the answers. He could hear the water running in the bathroom. But in his mind, it wasn’t Gerard in there. In his mind, Gerard didn’t exist. yet his words still existed. _You know you liked it…_ It wasn't Gerard saying them, though. They were running through Frank’s mind over and over again, but the voice in which he heard them was nothing like Gerard’s. Frank was in a different place. He was lost and the alcohol only sent him further into his own mind.

Frank stepped out of the kitchen, leaving the scattered glass behind. He stood in front of the door of the bathroom, staring at the shut door and listening to the water running and splattering from behind it. He reached for the door knob and found it unlocked. When he opened the door, he spotted discarded clothes on the closed toilet seat cover. The events following that almost seemed nonexistent to Frank. They all passed by like an unrealistic blur.

To Gerard, however, the events were the most realistic of his life. Every second and every feeling would be vividly imprinted in his mind.

From the moment the shower curtain was forcibly drawn open, to the moment he spun around to find Frank standing there, to the moment that Gerard was shoved by his chest against the shower wall, to the moment he tried to get away from Frank, to the moment he slipped in the shower, to the moment he fell to his stomach, to the moment Frank held him against the floor of the shower, to the moment he felt Frank forcibly enter him.

From Gerard constantly repeating Frank’s name, to Gerard begging to know what Frank was doing, to Gerard asking Frank why he was doing it to him, to Gerard begging for Frank to stop, to Gerard’s whimpers and cries and shouts escaping his lips.

From Frank’s hands gripping at Gerard’s arms to keep him against the wall, to Frank’s body pressing Gerard down on the floor, to Frank’s hand holding Gerard’s head down, to Frank entering Gerard painfully and quickly, to Frank collapsing against Gerard’s back when he finished.

Frank had his eyes shut, the water of the shower hitting his clothed back and bare legs. His temple rested against the back of the tub. Beneath him, a body trembled and he could hear whimpers and strangled sobs coming up from underneath him. A sick and sadistic smirk spread across his face. His fingers were still wrapped in a mound of wet hair and his grip tightened in it, causing the body beneath him to whimper again.

“I know _you_ fucking liked that,” Frank sneered to the person below him, but the only response he got was in the form of the body shaking as a silent sob escaped them. “I know you fucking liked it, Kev. You fucking liked it like you said I did.”

Frank fell asleep then, more asleep than he already was. Most of his senses were clouded, but as his body drifted to sleep, they were gone entirely. Just before complete darkness overtook him, he felt a sense of contentment with the satisfaction of retribution surging through his body, oblivious to the fact that he had gained nothing, that he had been the continuation of a cycle.


	34. Chapter 33: Alive but Gone

The first feeling to greet Frank when he woke up was the headache he had pounding through his head. He groaned, his eyes still shut, but his groan was cut short when confusion hit him. He was laying on something hard and cold and in the least comfortable position possible. Blinking the blurriness out of his eyes, he finally opened them completely and realized he was in the bathroom, but not only that, he was laying inside his bathtub, shirt still on, but pants gone. His body lay flat on the floor of the tub, but his neck was tilted at an awkward angle against the back of the tub.

He sat up, moving his neck around, trying to stretch out the soreness that would surely be there later. Too sleepy to question the state he woke up in, Frank heaved himself out of the shower. He found his boxers and pants thrown on the floor of the bathroom, so he slipped on his boxers. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, he stretched his arms up, yawning. When he brought his hands down to his sides, he began to actually think about why he woke up in the shower.

The recollection didn’t hit him right away. He glanced around the bathroom, scratching the back of his head, when he saw a towel thrown at the door of the bathroom. He bent over and picked it up, about to place it somewhere else, when he noticed small spots of blood on it. Frank’s brows furrowed and he held the towel out. There were just a few small spots of blood littered near the center of it. Holding the towel by his side, Frank turned around, examining the bathroom. He noticed blood that he hadn't noticed earlier on the rug just outside of the shower. The rug was skewed slightly out of place, and there were drops of blood on it, just where a pair of feet would have stepped once they got out of the shower.

Frank swallowed nervously, wondering what had happened. That was when it all hit him. It was like a giant train that had appeared from absolutely nowhere suddenly hit him hard. Frank’s knees went weak beneath him, and he dropped the towel, reaching for the sink to hold himself up. It couldn’t be true. The memories that were flashing through his head; they couldn’t be true. Frank’s breaths became loud and shallow pants, scraping sharply through his chest. He dropped to his knees, the support of the sink not nearly enough to hold him.

“Oh, God,” he whined, his voice straining in his throat. “Oh, God…oh, God…oh, God…”

He stared at the towel next to him, the blood now vividly telling him exactly what happened. It seemed impossible. He would never do that to anyone, and especially not Gerard. That was not him. That was not something Frank would do. He would never inflict that onto anyone, no matter who it was. But he had. He had done it and there was no denying it.

As more and more flashbacks blurrily zoomed through his mind, Frank grew more and more physically sick with himself. He could almost clearly hear Gerard’s voice. _Frank…don’t! Please, please, just stop and…and t-talk to me! Tell me why you’re doing this, please!_ His cries were frantic at first, but as he had lost hope, they grew weak and submissive. _Why…I don’t…I don’t understand why…_

Frank couldn’t handle the memories that would always be in his head. The thought of Gerard’s desperate voice being replied to with continued shoves and thrusts; Frank couldn’t begin to fathom the thought. But it had happened. He had lived through it…and so had Gerard.

Frank quickly crawled over to the toilet with whatever strength he had, lifted the seat cover, and vomited his self-disgust into the water of the toilet. It was mostly liquid since had done nothing but drink beer the day before. There was no more beer for him to throw up, but his gags continued, causing him to dry heave until stomach acid burned through his throat and out of his mouth. Tears, which were a product of the act of throwing up and of his emotions, made their way down his cheeks as he continued to empty his stomach almost entirely.

With a sore stomach, a burning throat, and swollen eyes, Frank pulled away from the toilet, flushing down its contents. He fell back on his ass, having been on his knees in front of the toilet. His back hit the wall and he slammed the back of his head against the surface a few times before letting it rest there. It all seemed so unreal. It all seemed impossible. He would have never done that to Gerard. He wouldn’t have. He would have done anything to protect Gerard, not harm him. Gerard, the man he admired for his kindness and compassion, the man who he felt the urge to protect because he was always left vulnerable due to his excessive thoughtfulness, the man who had been there for Frank knowing that Frank had strong walls built up around himself…Frank had harmed that; Frank had harmed the purest person he had ever met. Frank had always pushed Gerard away in fear for himself, but he realized then that he should have been pushing Gerard away for Gerard’s sake.

Amidst the thoughts rampaging through Frank’s mind, he heard a cough somewhere in his apartment. He lifted his head suddenly, waiting to hear another sound, but heard nothing. Who would be there in his home? Frank knew it couldn’t be Gerard. Gerard wouldn’t have stayed. He would have been insane if he did.

Frank lifted himself off the ground, his entire body still feeling too weak to move on its own. Bracing one hand against the wall, he edged his way out of the bathroom. Surprise or confusion couldn’t even be a proper description of what Frank felt when he saw Gerard in his living room.

Gerard, with his back against the side of the sofa, sat on the ground facing Frank. His head was back, closed eyes towards the ceiling. He was dressed again, his clothes thrown on haphazardly, only half the buttons on his shirt fastened.

Frank just stood at the entrance of the living room, staring at Gerard, desperately wanting to know why Gerard was still there. If he had been there while Frank slept, Frank wished Gerard would have killed him, tortured him, reciprocated the pain that he had been put through.

Just as those thoughts ran through Frank’s mind, Gerard’s eyes opened. He hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t entirely conscious either. Frank could see that through the lifeless way in which Gerard stared at the ceiling.

Suddenly, Gerard’s head dropped forward and his lifeless eyes locked with Frank’s. The lifelessness was replaced with widening and panic. Gerard stared at Frank, but didn’t dare move. He swallowed loudly, his fingers digging into the carpet beneath him.

“Why…” Frank spoke first, his voice broken. “Why are you…why are you still here?”

Gerard swallowed again, but didn’t answer Frank. If he allowed himself to admit it, he was scared. He was scared of saying or doing anything that would set Frank off.

Frank could see that as well; he could see the fear in Gerard’s eyes and that made him even more curious about why Gerard would have stayed if he was obviously afraid, as he should have been.

“Why?!” Frank raised his voice, almost yelling, but it was weak.

Gerard cringed, his entire body tensing. He turned his face away from Frank, staring down at his hand.

“B-Because…” Gerard whimpered. “I…I wanted to know w-why…”

“Why what?” Frank urged, sounding hysterical as he tried to hold himself back.

“Why you…did it…” Gerard answered, chancing a quick glance up at Frank but unable to maintain it for long. “I-I wanted to know w-why you did it. Th-There had to be a reason and I…I wanted to…to understand—”

“To understand?!” Frank cried out, causing Gerard to cringe again. “To understand what, Gerard?! What! What the fuck does an explanation matter?!”

Gerard bit his lower lip to stifle the sob that was threatening to escape. He kept his clouded eyes locked on his hand as it continued digging into the carpet.

“There just...had to be a reason…” Gerard almost whispered. “You didn’t say _my_ name…”

Frank just stared at Gerard. He had forgotten that small part of the torturous memory. He knew what his drunken mind had been thinking, but he had forgotten his addition near the end of his act. He had forgotten that Kevin’s name had slipped out of his mouth rather than Gerard’s.

Gerard took the silence as a chance to get through to Frank. He looked up at Frank and saw him just standing there, staring off at him with unfocused eyes.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke softly. “Something h-happened to you, didn’t it?”

Something snapped within Frank when Gerard asked him that question. Frank had just _raped_ Gerard and Gerard still had the courtesy to ask about Frank. Gerard still had the oblivious and kind audacity to have concern for the person that had harmed him. Frank wouldn’t take advantage of that, he had used him enough. Frank wouldn’t allow another Blake in Gerard’s life, even if that meant not allowing himself to be in Gerard’s life. He wouldn’t harm what he so desperately wanted to protect.

Frank slammed his fist into the wall beside him, a shock of pain jolting through his arm, but he ignored it. Gerard’s terrified eyes locked on Frank’s fist.

“Fuck, Gerard!” Frank yelled, pulling his fist back and slamming it into the wall again. The pain didn’t matter; it matched his frustration so it fit the moment perfectly.

Frank suddenly rushed over to Gerard, dropping down to his knees beside him. On some sudden impulsive instinct that he wasn’t even aware of, Gerard flinched away from Frank, shutting his eyes as if he was bracing himself for something. Frank felt a stab to his heart, but he couldn’t object to how Gerard was reacting to him. Gerard did need to be afraid; fear was good; fear would protect him just as it had protected Frank.

“Gerard,” Frank practically hissed, his voice coming out in a harsh whisper; it was all that he could manage. Gerard, with his eyes and face still turned away from Frank, didn’t answer. Frank placed his hand against Gerard’s cheek that wasn’t facing him and turned his face towards him. “Gerard, look at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Gerard opened his eyes, finding Frank unnervingly close to him. The closeness, the touch of Frank’s hand to his cheek, the way he was looking right into Gerard’s eyes; all those things would have previously caused the most pleasant of chills to run through his body, but the chills he felt then were coated in nothing but terror. He feared Frank, and as much as he didn’t want to, the fear was there and it was telling him to run.

“I’m sorry,” Frank suddenly said; it wasn’t what he was planning to say, but looking into Gerard’s fearful eyes just forced it out of him. Frank’s gaze dropped to the floor, but his hand remained on Gerard’s face. “I’m so sorry, Gerard.” His voice was straining and going an octave higher than normal as it was choked with the tears clouding his eyes. “Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” Frank was basically sobbing his words out now; it was obvious in his voice, but his tears were still hidden.

“Frank, it’s—”

“No,” Frank firmly interrupted Gerard, snapping his head. He shamelessly revealed his cheeks that were coated in still-running tears. “No, don’t fucking say it’s ok. Don’t you dare fucking say it, Gerard, because it’s not! It’s fucking not! Nothing will ever make it ok!”

Gerard could do nothing but nod within Frank’s hand that was still placed on his cheek.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Frank whimpered, his hand slipping to the side of Gerard’s head and his fingers weaving in between a few strands of hair. “You’re the last person I wanted to hurt. God, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. But it’s not ok, and you can’t forgive me, you won’t ever, do you hear me?” Frank’s grip in Gerard’s hair tightened just slightly, not painfully, but rather firmly to emphasize his point. “You can’t ever fucking forgive me for this.”

Gerard didn’t say anything; he didn’t know what to say. His mind was in a dilemma and Frank’s demand was only making that dilemma more difficult. He couldn’t decide whether or not Frank deserved forgiveness. If Frank would talk to him about why he did it, Gerard would be able to decide.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said again, bringing his other hand up to the other side of Gerard’s head. He brought Gerard’s head down so that their foreheads met, but he kept his eyes looking downward. “I’m sorry, but please, please don’t ever forgive me. No matter what the fuck happens, don’t ever forgive me for this. You fucking can’t.”

Gerard opened his mouth to speak, but Frank interrupted him again.

“Go,” Frank whispered. “You need to fucking go. Never come back. Never come near me. Forget the fuck about me, alright? I won’t ever hurt you again, ok? So just go…and don’t ever turn back to me.”

Gerard wanted to protest against that; he wanted to, but how could he? If Frank didn’t want him to come back, he couldn’t. It wasn’t entirely up to him, so whatever his decision was, it didn’t matter because Frank didn’t want him to ever come back. Gerard didn’t know how capable he was of forgetting, but he knew he had no choice but to try.

Frank’s hands slowly slid out of Gerard’s hair and dropped down to the carpet. Gerard didn’t take long to obey and stand up off the ground. Frank watched every moment and everything felt like it had been slowed down. Everything seemed to drag on for hours, like Gerard’s hands loosening on the carpet beneath him only to press into it again as he pushed himself up and off the floor, and Gerard flinching as he felt the pain of what Frank had done stab through his spine, and Gerard looking around the apartment awkwardly, giving the place a mental goodbye, and then Gerard’s feet walking away from him.

Frank kept his eyes down after that, just listening for Gerard’s exit. He heard Gerard struggle just slightly as he got his shoes on and then he heard the door open and close. Then there was silence. Frank was alone, which was how it was supposed to be. Alone is how he had envisioned himself, so now he got it. The misery and heartache that went along with the reason he was now alone didn’t leave him, though.

Frank broke down, more than he had earlier, collapsing onto his back and releasing sob after sob. There was so much pain for so many different reasons. What he had done to Gerard and how much pain he had caused him. The initial disappointment he hated to admit he felt now that he was alone; he had grown so accustomed to the idea of having a constant friend, but now that was gone, and it was his fault that he lost it. There was the pain of the memory that was still haunting him; it was the memory that caused everything, but that was the one thing he couldn’t change, so he had to live with it and what it had caused him to do.

Frank turned his face to the side, allowing the tears to pour out of his eyes, down his temple and somewhere into his hair. Laying down, Frank’s head had landed just at the entrance of the kitchen, the cold and hard tile touching his scalp. He tilted his head slightly to get a look into the kitchen. He saw the glass shattered all over the kitchen, something he had only a short recollection of doing.

He sat up against the counter at the entrance of the kitchen. Every movement felt like it took a million times as much effort as it normally would. Everything seemed pointless. His head dropped to the side, looking at the glass that was twinkling beneath the light of the kitchen. Nothing should have been lighting up; Frank wanted to live in a world of darkness. More strongly than ever, Frank wanted his life to end. Any reason he had for living was officially destroyed.

Frank shut his eyes and on a sudden impulse, he slammed his palm down onto the kitchen floor, catching a small piece of glass that easily made a small cut at the base of his palm. He hissed, but kept his eyes shut, slamming his palm down again. A couple more shards made their own contribution to the cuts on his palm. He fisted his other hand into his hair, tugging on it as he continued running his palm through the glass. His hand landed in a pile of glass, and he allowed his fingers to tightly wrap around them, adding cuts to the sensitive bending points of his fingers. He sucked in a loud breath, the pain finally beginning to feel strong enough. But it wasn’t there just yet.

Eyes opening, but clouded with tears of resentment more than pain, he brought his other hand that was in his hair down to join the forming droplets of blood. Both hands clutching on to shards and specs of glass, he brought his right hand up and dragged it down his arm, the glass scratching the surface of his skin.

A sob wretched out of his throat because he deserved the pain. He cried for who he was more than the pain he was feeling. He cried about the self-hatred he felt flowing through every cut he’d made. He cried about the fact that he’d emotionally destroyed a person who had basically become his best friend. He cried about the fact that he was gone beyond repair. He cried about the fact that he would be broken and damaged and there was nothing anyone could do to fix him…

He wanted to be repaired and shaped back up to being normal, but it was pointless. Gerard got only a small glimpse of Frank’s normal side before Frank drove him away entirely. He wanted to be repaired and genuinely enjoy a moment of his life, but there was no hope for him. The cuts on his arm and palms, and the blood splattered in front of him, were not nearly an accurate description of how damaged he felt. He was damaged past the point of recognition. He was alive, but still gone.


	35. Chapter 34: Fade Out

Frank’s life—it couldn’t exactly be called that anymore. Frank wasn’t living and he knew it. He was simply passing the days by, waiting for death to come. He didn’t chase after it because he was actually too much of a coward. The mystery of what would come after death, whether it was to simply end in nonexistence or if it was an afterlife in hell, was too much of a risk. It scared him. He wanted to die so that he didn’t have to live with his mistakes anymore, but if dying meant living an eternity being punished for his mistakes, he didn’t want to go after it…he’d just let it come whenever it decided to.

He hadn’t been to work and he didn’t know what became of the store and whether or not his boss had noticed the lack of income. Frank didn’t care. None of it mattered. Living didn’t matter anymore.

Frank had only left his apartment once after the incident with Gerard happened. He left a day after to the nearest grocery store to buy beer. If there was anything Frank needed, it was alcohol to dull out the pain of what he had done.

The drinking gained a pattern; he would drink day on and day off because often times the hangover he had the next day would be too much and he couldn’t even get himself to swallow anything. Aside from his pattern of drinking, nothing was set in stone, but it was still a dull cycle that circled in no particular order.

He would wake up and charge his iPod. He would then go to the kitchen and get a beer if it was a drinking day. If the hunger was too much for him to handle, he would give in and eat a bite of a Poptart or a piece of bread; he didn’t have enough of an appetite to actually eat anything else. He would migrate from the sofa to his bed to various parts of the floor. Whenever his iPod finished charging, he would gladly plug his ears and get immersed into the music. He would fall asleep with the headphones in his ear, and wake up the next day, beginning a new cycle of nothingness. Even his sleep was completely out of order, since he would sleep at random intervals throughout the day.

He hadn’t showered—he couldn’t even look at the shower in his bathroom anymore—and he didn’t bother changing out of his clothes; was there really a point? The only thing that would change was his jacket that he slipped on and off depending on how cold it got. His hair was greasy and he could feel how greasy it was whenever he ran his fingers through it or itched at his dandruff-covered scalp. If he allowed himself to think about the state he was in, he was disgusted by it, but he was disgusted by himself anyways so it didn’t matter.

On one random day, he crawled over to his guitar that was resting against the TV cabinet. The guitar strings against his fingers felt like comforting familiarity that relaxed him immediately. He shut his eyes, sitting on the floor, and played a few random chords from previous melodies that he’d come up with. It felt amazing, refreshing, and comforting. The moment he realized that it was comforting him, though, he set the guitar down without a thought. He didn’t deserve comfort. He didn’t deserve to enjoy anything. The miserable condition he was in was the only condition he deserved. Frank didn’t know how Gerard was doing, and whether he was ok or not, but Frank did know he had to suffer for what he’d done to Gerard. He had to suffer and then die. That was it. Even death seemed like a blessing; maybe that was another reason he kept himself alive…

It had been about two weeks and a half since Frank had made the biggest mistake in his life and since he had seen Gerard. He had a hangover so it wasn’t a drinking day for him. He was laying on his back on the sofa, his iPod resting on his chest, and his headphones in his ear. “Fade Out” by Radiohead was playing loudly in his ears. Tears had slipped out of the corners of his eyes and ran down, getting lost in his dirty hair. The song was hitting him hard. He didn’t even allow himself to enjoy music, only listening to songs that would remind him of the pathetic desolation he was in.

“Cracked eggs, dead birds scream as they fight for life; I can feel death, can see its beady eyes; all these things into position, all these things we’ll one day swallow whole; and fade out again…” A dry laugh actually escaped Frank’s lips and he shook his head at himself, the tears dry from his face and from his eyes. It was almost funny in the most bitter of ways how pathetic he was. It was funny how he ended up. He had never wanted to live; living had become pointless for him long ago. But he had always been too scared to face death, and still was. It was pathetically funny to him how it took a mistake to make him realize that he truly had no point in living; it took the destruction of another person to make him live his life the way he thought he should.

Frank brought his forearm over his eyes, as a mix of sobs and silent, pitiful laughter left his lips. The song drifted to an end, and during the silence, before it repeated again, he heard the sound of loud bangs from his door. He pulled his arm away from his face, and wiped the tears that had reappeared. After pulling the headphones out of his ears, he heard the loud banging continue. He sat up and just stared at his door.

“FUCKING OPEN THE DOOR OR I WILL BREAK IT DOWN!” a loud voice yelled suddenly, but Frank only grew more confused. He didn’t recognize the voice at all, so he just continued staring at the door, the bangs not stopping. “I KNOW YOU’RE FUCKING IN THERE, FRANK!”

More confusion, because he person was at the right apartment but Frank still had no idea who it was, and he didn’t even want to see the people he knew, much less someone he didn’t know.

The bangs stopped and Frank let out a quick sigh, relieved that the person had given up, but then there was a loud thud against the door, making it shake against its frame. Frank’s eyes widened and he stood up off the sofa, still staring at the door. There were short intervals between the much louder thuds, which were most likely due to the person running back and slamming into the door. Frank realized that, whoever it was, was fucking serious.

“I’m coming!” Frank yelled after one particularly hard slam hit the door. When he heard his own voice, it actually alarmed him. It sounded raspy, like he was coming off a strong cold, and sounding nothing like himself. He had forgotten when he last spoke aloud.

The thuds stopped and Frank slowly approached the door. He unlocked it and pulled it open just slightly, but the person outside would not put up with the small opening. They pushed the door fully open, grabbed Frank by the front of his shirt, and slammed him hard against the open door. The back of Frank’s head hit the door, sending a chilling ache that ran to his ears and back. It actually took him a few moments to realize that the person holding him against the door was someone he knew. It was Mikey.

Frank was too weak to do anything. His body was limp against the door, Mikey having to literally hold him up against it so that he didn’t go sinking to the floor.

Two seconds was about all it took for Frank to realize why Mikey was there, why he was so angry…Frank had raped his brother, after all. Frank actually felt slightly content with the thought that Mikey would kill him. That seemed like a proper way to go.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Mikey yelled, looking and sounding like a different person. Frank didn’t know he even had that side to him. “What the fuck did you do, Frank?!”

“You already…” Frank tried speaking, but the process of forming words felt so daunting. “You already know.”

“No, I don’t,” Mikey said. “You’re gonna need to fucking tell me or I will kill you. I swear to God, Frank, if you don’t tell me—”

“Go ahead,” Frank sighed. “Please, just get it over with.”

Mikey actually recoiled, his head going back a bit as he stared at Frank’s face. He wasn’t being sarcastic or trying to anger Mikey; he was actually being serious. Mikey felt like he didn’t even have to kill Frank because, now that he looked closer, Frank looked dead already. His skin was a sickly pale color and his cheekbones were much more prominent than Mikey remembered them to be. His eyes almost looked sunken back because of the dark circles that surrounded them and how swollen and red they were.

“What…” Mikey drew his head back again. His tone of voice had calmed down a bit, but he still held Frank against the wall, also taking note of how light his body felt. “What happened? What the hell happened? What’s wrong with you?”

Frank didn’t answer. He just held his back against the door and shut his eyes. He saw sympathy in Mikey’s eyes when Mikey was looking over his condition, but he didn’t want that. Sympathy was the last thing he deserved, especially from Gerard’s brother.

“Frank, this is important, alright?” Mikey said, sounding slightly more rational. “You really need to fucking tell me what happened. God, I need to understand why the fuck Gerard would be so stupid!”

“Gerard?” Frank asked, his eyes suddenly snapping open. “What happened to him?”

“Did you hurt him?” Mikey asked, narrowing his eyes. “Answer me that first.”

A lump formed in Frank’s throat. Mikey really didn’t know what had happened. For whatever reason, Gerard hadn’t told him. Frank almost groaned at the thought that Gerard _still_ wanted to protect Frank in some way by not telling people what he’d done.

Frank couldn’t lie to Mikey and he also didn’t want to because he wanted to know what “stupid” thing Gerard had done. If Gerard had hurt himself because of what happened, Frank wouldn’t live with himself, not even the torturous way he had been living.

“Yes,” Frank answered after gulping down the lump in his throat, his eyes still shut. “I did.”

The anger returned to Mikey’s eyes, eliminating the calm and sensible side that had appeared in them earlier.

“Did you hurt him like Blake did?” Mikey asked, barely forcing the words out through gritted teeth. His grip on Frank’s shirt tightened.

Frank felt his eyes sting behind closed eye lids, but there were no more tears to cry.

“Maybe worse,” Frank answered.

As soon as the words left Frank’s mouth, he felt Mikey’s hands leave his shirt. When he opened his eyes to see why Mikey had released him, what he saw for only a second was Mikey’s fist rapidly approaching his face. He could have probably dodged it or at least lessened the blow, but he didn’t. He allowed Mikey’s fist to come into contact with part of his cheek and most of his nose. The hard punch that Mikey was surprisingly capable of, sent Frank to the floor.

Frank held his hand to his throbbing nose and felt blood run onto his fingers. There was a hot, stinging pain running through his nose and cheek. He groaned and shut his eyes tight, feeling the pain from his nose travel to his head. His body was too weak to handle standing, much less a strong punch. He felt like his entire body was falling part because of a punch to the nose and a fall.

Frank was on his knees, staring at the floor, and holding his bloody nose. Mikey turned him over roughly, and leaned over him.

“What the fuck did you do?” Mikey asked. “What the fuck did you do to him? I thought you cared. I really fucking thought you cared about him. No wonder he…” Mikey stood up straight and ran his hand through his hair. “You fucking bastard, Frank. I trusted you, so did he, and Hambone said you’re a good guy, so what the fuck did you do?”

“What did Gerard do?” Frank asked, his voice coming out congested due to his nose. He didn’t even care about what Mikey was saying, except for Gerard having done something stupid.

“Does it fucking matter to you?” Mikey asked, looking down at Frank.

“It does,” Frank answered confidently.

“What did you do?” Mikey asked, ignoring Frank’s question.

“No, what did Gerard do?” Frank pressed on. “This sounds fucking serious, Mikey. What did he do?”

“You haven’t checked your phone, have you?” Mikey raised his eye brow.

Frank shook his head. The last time he checked it was days after Gerard left because _Gerard_ had texted him, trying to get ahold of him, and Frank couldn’t believe it, so he left his phone somewhere and forgot it existed. If Gerard continued texting him, he would have eventually gave in and texted him back because as much as he was torturing himself, he would have gave in to the comfort of having Gerard come back to him.

Mikey sighed and looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly at it. He then looked back down at Frank while pulling something out of his pocket. He tossed whatever it was down onto Frank’s chest and stepped away from Frank’s body.

What landed heavily on Frank’s chest was a phone. Frank recognized it to be Gerard’s phone and his heart began beating heavily against his chest with the many negative thoughts that were travelling through his mind.

“Open the messages under your name,” Mikey instructed, leaning against the open doorway.

Frank sat up slightly and took the phone in his hand, quickly getting to the messages and then going under his name. He scrolled up until he reached the last message he had seen on his own phone.

Gerard had repeatedly sent text messages that consisted simply of, “Frank, you need to talk to me.” He sent about five before Frank stopped checking them, but there were other messages that he never read because he stopped looking at his phone.

Three days after Gerard had left Frank, he sent a text saying, “I’m confused, alright? I can’t think about anything else but what happened and I need shit explained to me, Frank.” That same day he sent another text, saying, “I can’t even fucking go to work, Frank. I can’t think straight. I can’t do anything. I don’t even care if you pity me enough to just fucking talk to me.”

The next day he sent another three messages. Two of them said, “Frank.” The last one said, “Frank, please.”

There were no messages until two days after that. It was the last message, and it was a long one. Gerard wrote, “I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened. Since you won’t explain to me or talk to me, I’ll have to explain it to myself. You know what I think? Maybe I deserved it. I pushed myself onto you while you were pretty drunk and emotional, maybe I got what I deserved. And you know what else that made me realize? Maybe I just deserve to be mistreated. Maybe I was fucking craving it in a fucked up way. Maybe I went after it by pushing you. Maybe my body craves it without even realizing it. So maybe I should go back and get it. I should just go back to what my body was used to; there was no point in pretending that I could honestly live normally, right? You’re sorry you gave me what I deserve but you shouldn’t be. I don’t know if you’ll even read this or not, but yeah…I just thought I’d let you know now that I’d made up my mind.”

Frank’s fingers grew limp and he dropped Gerard’s phone in his lap. He looked up at Mikey, ignoring the blood he could feel trickling down his upper lip.

“…Blake?” Frank choked out. “He went back?”

Mikey, with a straight and completely neutral expression, nodded.

All the weakness in Frank’s body was gone at that moment. He jumped off of the floor, still ignoring the blood that was still running.

“What the fuck is the address?” Frank asked.

Mikey stood up straight and obviously looked like he was about to protest against Frank going there, but Frank wasn’t going to bother. It had already been about two weeks since that text. Frank couldn’t imagine what condition Gerard would be in.

Frank grabbed Mikey by the shirt, the same way Mikey had him earlier, and held him against the door frame.

“I already tried going over there,” Mikey said calmly. “Neither of them will open the door. Gerard won’t even talk to me because he knows I’ll force him out of there.”

“Just give me the fucking address,” Frank hissed.

Mikey didn’t argue anymore. He recited the address to Frank and Frank didn’t even need anything to write it down. He would remember it and he wouldn’t dare forget. In just seconds, he was running down the sidewalk, headed towards the direction of Blake’s apartment.

The weakness that Frank had felt earlier would have never allowed him to run as he was at that moment. He would have never found the strength to get up and run, but finding out that Gerard was back with Blake, back to being abused by him, Frank’s body ran entirely on adrenaline. Frank had hurt Gerard, but he would never allow himself to do it again, and he sure as hell wouldn’t allow Gerard to hurt himself or have anyone else hurt him. Frank knew he had to stay away from Gerard in order to protect him, but he wouldn’t stand by and watch someone harm him. Admittedly, Frank’s heart was paining him with a stabbing guilt. Gerard was there because of him. Gerard had gone back to Blake because he was convinced that he deserved the worst. He couldn’t be more wrong and Frank wanted to prove that to him.

Frank had felt dead the past two weeks and a half. He had known that death would be visiting him soon and he didn’t mind it. It was gradual and it was easy. He had slowly begun to fade out, but with the thought of Gerard in danger, the life was fully restored into him in.


	36. Chapter 35: Alive Again

Gerard’s life—it couldn’t exactly be called that anymore. Gerard wasn’t living and he knew it. He was simply passing the days by, unsure what exactly he was waiting for. Every day he expected something, but he didn’t know what.

When he left Frank’s house, he got home, and was glued to his bed. He was irritable anytime Mikey approached him, snapping at him just to keep him away. He didn’t want anyone to come near him or try to help him, because nothing could. He didn’t know what would. But he had a hunch of who could. Frank. The reason Gerard felt so down wasn’t because of a single emotion; it was because of the confusion he felt between many contradicting emotions. There was anger, but there was sympathy; there was sadness, but there was curiosity; there was hurt and betrayal, but there was concern. All the things he should have felt for Frank were cancelled out by the dire need he felt to help Frank.

In texting Frank and trying to get hold of him, Gerard was trying to seek help for the both of them. He was trying to get Frank to open up about whatever happened to him, and in doing so, he would end the confusion between his conflicting emotions.

But Frank never replied. Even when Gerard begged, Frank didn’t reply. And so the conflicting emotions disappeared, only to be replaced by the most pessimistic thoughts his mind could conjure up.

His mind reflected on his friendship with Frank, and how he always pushed Frank where he knew Frank didn’t want to be pushed. Then Frank hurt him. His mind went further back and reflected on Blake. Blake always called him ungrateful and constantly reminded him of how, without Blake, he would have had nothing. Anytime Gerard defied Blake in anyway, Blake bombarded him with guilt and Gerard always fell for it. Gerard’s conscience was his biggest weakness and Blake had a firm grip on it. Blake basically gave him what he deserved.

That was why Gerard decided to go back. He didn’t need to take much with him, so he just threw some clothes—mostly underwear—into a small backpack that he found in the back of his closet. He was about to leave his room with just that, but with one last glance over his shoulder, he saw the blanket that had been neatly folded next to him as he slept every night. That blanket held Frank within it and for some reason, Gerard just couldn’t let go of him yet. He went back to his bed and shoved the blanket into his backpack, then made his way out of the room.

Mikey quickly spotted him because it was the first time Gerard had emerged from the room. Mikey’s expression of hope was replaced by one of anxious curiosity when he saw the backpack with Gerard.

“Where are you going?” Mikey asked, speaking slowly and warily; his brother had been extremely on edge and he didn’t know if he would snap again.

“Leaving,” Gerard answered simply.

“As in moving?” Mikey asked, standing up off the sofa so that he could face Gerard’s back that was walking towards the exit.

Gerard nodded and Mikey could just roughly see the nod from behind him.

“What…why?” Mikey asked. “Where? And how can you just leave like that? And with just that bag? Gerard, what’s been going on with you? I've been fucking worried over here.”

And the sound of concern and hurt in Mikey’s voice held Gerard from walking out the door without an explanation. He knew he’d been a burden to Mikey for days. Mikey had force fed him and called in many excuses to work and Gerard just lay in bed and yelled at Mikey whenever he spoke a single word to him.

“Sorry,” Gerard sighed, slipping his shoes on. “But thanks for everything. I won’t be on your hands anymore.”

“Where are you going, Gerard?” Mikey asked.

“Blake’s,” Gerard answered simply.

Before Gerard’s answer could actually process through Mikey’s mind, Gerard was already out the door and heading towards his car. By the time Mikey had chased after him, Gerard was already getting ready to pull out. Gerard could see Mikey running towards him, but he quickly drove off before Mikey could guilt him into staying. He had to do this and he had to catch Blake at home before he went to work.

When Gerard arrived at the apartment that used to belong to both him and Blake, he wasn’t the least bit nervous. Blake would either welcome him back with open arms or beat him; Gerard could accept both options.

Gerard had to knock on the apartment door a few times before he finally heard Blake calling from the other side. “One second!” Gerard then shoved his hands into his front pockets and waited for the door to open.

The door finally swung open to reveal Blake with jeans on, no shirt, and a towel slung around his neck, drops of water still running down his head from the shower he’d just gotten out of. He actually blinked a few times, staring at Gerard with a shocked expression.

“Gerard?” Blake asked, looking around Gerard, checking if he was alone. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I thought maybe…” Gerard spoke quietly, keeping his eyes to the ground. “I don’t know. I wanted to work things out?”

“Wait, wait,” Blake shook his head, an arrogant smirk already appearing on his face. “You’re coming back to me after all the bull shit you put me through?”

Gerard kept his head down but glanced up at Blake, trying to see if he could figure out where this was going, but Blake was as unreadable as ever.

“Is your little fuck buddy gonna come after me again?” Blake asked.

“No,” Gerard answered sadly. “No, that was just…it won’t happen again.”

“Come in,” Blake shrugged, stepping aside. Gerard forced a smile onto his face; it was small, and obviously fake, but it was always enough to satisfy Blake.

Gerard walked into the living room and just stood there. Their apartment was large and spacious, but Gerard always felt so trapped and suffocated in there. This time, though, he just felt lost. He just felt like he needed somewhere to go and this was the only place offered up to him.

“Home sweet home, huh?” Blake asked, still standing by the door. “Feel good to be back?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, looking around the apartment; it hadn’t changed a bit since he last saw it. “It feels…familiar.”

“You had it all here, you know,” Blake said, walking up to Gerard and standing right in front of him. “I was yours and I would give you everything you wanted, but you just…you gave it all up. I don’t understand what the fuck you want from me, Gerard. I gave you everything. I would do anything for you.”

Gerard swallowed the lump in his throat. There was another type of familiarity. The guilt that Blake was basically beating him with and the condescending tone he used to do so were always like chains that kept Gerard tied to him.

“I know,” Gerard sighed, his breath shaky. “You did and…and I guess I don’t know how to thank you properly. I always get confused about the way I feel and I’m stupid for that.”

“Do you love me?” Blake asked, taking another step closer to Gerard. Their bodies were touching lightly at various points.

Gerard couldn’t get an honest voice to come out of his throat with the words that Blake wanted to hear, so he chose to nod instead, hoping that would suffice. He nodded while looking right into Blake’s eyes.

“Then there’s no confusion,” Blake said, bringing a hand up to Gerard’s neck. “If you love me, that’s that. Right?”

“Right,” Gerard nodded.

Blake stepped away from Gerard and walked towards the bedroom.

“Lemme go finish getting dressed, I’ll be right back,” Blake called over his shoulder. Gerard nodded to no one in particular and leaned against the back of the sofa. What he felt the moment he saw Blake was a strange sense of lifelessness. He felt like he died right when he saw him, and that was what he needed. Feeling dead was the perfect alternative to the emotions he’d been feeling.

Blake came strolling out of the room, a confident spring to each step he took, now wearing a shirt.

“I still gotta think about if I should actually take you back,” Blake said. He walked over and paused for a second in front of Gerard, before he walked around him and took a seat on the sofa. “I’m gonna need to think over it for most of the day.”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “Yeah, I get that.”

Gerard still had his back towards Blake who was sitting on the sofa right behind him.

“I need to leave for work in a few minutes,” Blake said. “Why don’t you come here and give me something to help me think about it?”

Gerard gulped. He knew that that was inevitable and that he would have to give Blake his body when he went back to him, but that was something he wasn’t fully prepared for. He had to, though. He took a deep breath, dropped his backpack on the ground, and walked around the sofa, standing in front of Blake. Blake looked up at him with lustful eyes, slowly licking his lips as he stared Gerard up and down. Gerard forced a seductive smirk onto his face as he climbed into Blake’s lap, straddling him. His hands ran up over Blake’s clothed chest and then joined together behind his neck. Blake’s hands casually rested on Gerard’s thighs, waiting for Gerard to make the next move.

Gerard knew that Blake didn’t like teasing, and he didn’t like taking things slow, so Gerard gave him what he wanted. With his hands against Blake’s neck, he pulled Blake’s face towards him and their lips met, open and ready. Gerard wasted absolutely no time because that was the approach Blake always liked. His tongue and lips moving with Blake’s, Gerard scooted his crotch over Blake’s. He felt Blake’s moan of approval enter his mouth along with Blake’s hands that slid up to his hips, helping him grind down faster and harder.

Gerard could feel the sensations of the kiss and the friction between their crotches, and even though his body automatically reacted, there was no genuine pleasure. There was no spark that made him want to savor every moment of what was happening. Instead, there was a desire to get it done as quickly as possible. He just wanted to satisfy Blake and get it over with.

Blake, however, was enjoying every part of it. The pleasure of Gerard’s body on his, the contentment of doing something with Gerard that was so familiar, and most importantly, the satisfaction that Gerard was giving it to him without hesitation.

Blake pulled his lips away from Gerard’s to catch his breath, but Gerard didn’t need a break. He quickly tilted Blake’s head back and attacked his neck with his lips, giving it wet kisses anywhere he could reach. His hips were still moving against Blake as well, hands guiding him through the motions. Gerard could hear short, breathy moans coming from Blake, letting him know that he was doing things right.

“Mm, you’re as good as ever,” Blake sighed, bringing his hand up to lift Gerard’s face from his neck. “I gotta get to work, but you made a pretty good fucking argument.”

“Good,” Gerard nodded. “If you still need to think about it, I'll be here when you get home, too.”

“Yeah,” Blake nodded, biting his lip. “You’ll definitely be doing more of this.”

Blake lifted Gerard off of him and set him on the sofa. He stood up and adjusted his jeans where the uncomfortable start of a boner was nagging at him.

“I’ll see you after,” Blake nodded at Gerard, and with that, he was gone.

Gerard had the apartment to himself for the rest of the day. The dead environment was perfect for him to coil up on the sofa and just lay there. There was no one to bother him and try to make him feel better. All he had to do was keep Blake content before and after work.

When Blake got home that night, Gerard hadn’t moved from the sofa, half asleep and oblivious to someone entering the apartment. Blake placed bags of dinner on the coffee table and Gerard fully woke up with the realization that someone was there.

“Oh, you’re back,” Gerard said, sitting up. “I must’ve fallen asleep.”

“Then you probably didn’t eat,” Blake said, taking a seat next to Gerard. “I brought home some dinner.”

“I’m actually not that hungry,” Gerard shrugged.

“Seriously? I stopped on my way home just to buy dinner so we can eat together,” Blake said, using that tone that Gerard was all too familiar with. It was that tone of voice that he used to guilt Gerard in to doing things his way, even if it was something as minimal as eating dinner together.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Gerard quickly said, before Blake escalated things. “You’re right. I’ll eat with you. Thank you.”

Blake nodded and pulled the dinner out of its bags. He had gone for Chinese food. Chinese food wasn’t exactly Gerard’s favorite food, but he had no choice but to force down every single bite. When they finished eating, they sat in silence for a few minutes before Gerard felt Blake shift next to him. He turned his head to look at him and saw Blake moving closer towards him. Gerard complied to everything Blake did next. He allowed Blake to push him so that he was laying on his back on the sofa. He allowed Blake to crawl on top of him. And he allowed Blake to cover his lips with his own.

Gerard gripped onto Blake’s hips and thrust his own up to meet with Blake’s crotch, causing Blake to slightly nip against his bottom lip.

“I think this means you can stay,” Blake panted, now pushing his crotch down against Gerard’s.

“Thank you,” Gerard said, forcing a smile on to his face. “I’ll be sure to thank you anyway you want me to, alright?”

“Mm, you know what I want right now?” Blake asked, resting his forehead against Gerard’s.

“Anything,” Gerard said.

“I want you to blow me,” Blake said, his lips bumping into Gerard’s lips as he spoke. “I’ve missed your hot ass mouth on me.”

“Anything,” Gerard repeated, nodding. They clumsily flipped over so that Gerard was on top and he quickly got straight to his point, stripping Blake of his pants and underwear. Once again, familiarity dawned over Gerard. Everything felt familiar to him. Blake’s guttural moans and curse words, his hand roughly grasping onto Gerard’s hair and pushing his head down, his hips thrusting up with no regards for Gerard’s throat…there was no regard for Gerard in general. And he was fine with that.

When he finished, swallowing every drop of what Blake released—Blake would have flipped out if he didn’t—Blake was spent. Gerard fixed his pants and crawled back over his body. Blake wrapped his arms around Gerard and fell asleep that way, Gerard’s head resting at the crook of his neck.

Gerard didn’t fall asleep, but eventually Blake released him and rolled over, so Gerard took that chance to slink down to the floor and lay there. Sleep overcame him after hours of just staring up at the ceiling.

The next morning, Gerard was woken up by a rough nudge to his shoulder. He opened his eyes and found Blake sitting on the sofa, staring down at him and nudging his shoulder with his foot. Gerard was confused for a few seconds until he remembered that he had gone back to Blake and that’s why he was looking up at him then.

“Morning,” Gerard mumbled, stretching his arms over his head, closing his eyes in the process. He felt a strong nudge to his side and it cut his stretching short. He opened his eyes and found Blake still staring down at him, an angry expression on his face. Gerard sat up quickly and looked up at Blake. “What’s wrong?”

“I was thinking,” Blake said. He paused without saying anything.

“What were you thinking about?” Gerard asked when Blake didn’t continue.

“About you,” Blake shrugged. “About how I kind of just took you back without even thinking about it. You really fucked up, you know that?”

“But we’re ok now, aren’t we?” Gerard quickly said. “You said I can stay and that we’re good.”

“I never said we’re good,” Blake said. “I’m still fucking pissed at you.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Gerard begged. “I told you anything you want, it’s yours.”

“How about you fucking take back the night you had your short fuck buddy kick my ass?” Blake growled, leaning forward and grabbing Gerard’s hair. Gerard barely whimpered as Blake tugged on his hair, lifting his face so that their eyes met. “Can you fucking take that back?? I didn’t even think about it last night, but I can’t believe I just let you come over here and blow me and do shit like everything is ok. It’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” Gerard whimpered, feeling a few hairs being snatched out of his scalp.

Blake’s free hand suddenly met with Gerard’s jaw in the form of a tight fist. Blake released Gerard’s hair so that when he punched him, he flew down to the ground. Gerard knew not to do anything. If he just sat through Blake’s furious fit, then it would end sooner.

Blake stood up off the sofa and leaned over Gerard’s body, lifting him off the ground by the front of his shirt. Gerard was halfway off the ground when Blake’s knee dug into his stomach, knocking the air out of him. Blake threw Gerard to the ground, his head hitting the floor, and just walked away. Gerard’s body curled into a ball, breaths wheezing in and out of his throat as he tried to restore the breath back into his lungs.

Blake completely ignored Gerard. He went to the room to get ready for work. If he stayed in the same room as Gerard for any longer, his anger would have only gotten worse and he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself.

Gerard eventually caught his breath and just lay on the floor, staring at the bottom of the sofa. He couldn’t complain about his condition—ragged breath and a throbbing jaw that he was sure would swell—because he had gone after it; he had gone after his old lifestyle, knocked on its door, and walked right back into it.

When Blake returned to the living room, fully dressed and ready for work, Gerard had sat up against the sofa, resting the back of his head on it.

“You can’t blame me for being mad,” Blake said, standing behind the sofa and staring down at Gerard’s closed eyes.

Gerard’s eyes snapped open when he heard Blake’s voice and he quickly stood up, his abdomen aching at the quick movement. He and Blake stood facing each other, only the sofa standing between them.

“No,” Gerard answered, his voice a bit hoarse. “No, I get it. I messed up and you totally have every right to be mad.”

“You can still stay,” Blake said. “I still want you to stay. I just can’t help but get fucking pissed when I think about how you left me the way you did.”

“Thank you,” Gerard sighed. “I’ll make it up to you. Whatever it takes.”

Blake smiled and Gerard could see how genuine it was. It wasn’t an arrogant or dominant smile; it was a genuinely pleased and happy smile. There was a time when that used to make Gerard ecstatic; now it just reassured him that he would be safe from another beating for a while.

“I’ll stop by the grocery store so you can make us some dinner tonight, alright?” Blake said and Gerard, of course, nodded. Blake then leaned over the sofa, his lips just slightly puckered up. Gerard got on the sofa on his knees and met Blake’s lips in a quick kiss. With a smile, Blake pulled away and left the apartment. Gerard was, once again, left on his own.

That was basically the premise of all their days. Blake would wake up in the morning and his mood would change depending on whether or not Gerard was on his good side that day. He would go to work. Gerard would do absolutely nothing. Blake would come home. They would eat dinner and then it was up to Blake what they did. On some nights, Gerard took nothing but a face full of the pillow in Blake’s bedroom as Blake mercilessly fucked him. It was hard and fast and raw and it hurt the way Gerard needed it to. If it didn’t hurt, he would enjoy it in some ways and he couldn’t allow himself that. Other nights, if Blake was too tired, Gerard would give him a handjob or blowjob to satisfy him. And on the rarest of nights, they would just sleep, Blake holding tightly onto Gerard in bed until he eventually fell asleep and rolled away.

There were some nights and mornings that Gerard, in some way or another, dissatisfied Blake and earned a few punches, slaps, scratches, or shoves. With quick apologies, though, Gerard could easily get Blake to stop. It was easier than the last time they were together, because unlike last time, Gerard had no desire to be free so he had no desire to disobey Blake. He took the hardest beatings whenever Mikey showed up. Mikey would randomly go either early in the morning or late at night and knock loudly on the door, yelling at them to open, but Blake never allowed Gerard to open the door, so they ignored him. Mikey’s persistence angered Blake, and if Gerard so much as defended Mikey in the slightest, he wouldn’t walk away without a new bruise somewhere on his body.

Gerard lay in bed after having said goodbye to Blake, who was off to work. He stared at the ceiling for a few minutes before he stood up off the bed and went to the closet. In there was the backpack he had brought his necessities in, and in the backpack was his treasured blanket that he found himself stupid for cherishing. At one point, he had used it when he slept, but Blake almost fucked him on top of it, and he couldn’t have it contaminated with a memory like that. He somehow squirmed around until he got it out from under them and onto the floor. Ever since then, he kept it in his backpack whenever Blake was home, and only took it out when he was alone. He didn’t want Blake asking questions that he couldn’t answer.

Gerard took the blanket back to bed and lay down with it on top of him, tucking himself in, and snuggling his face into the soft fabric. He drifted off into a state that was half conscious and half sleeping, only to be jolted out of it a couple hours later by the loud sound of glass being shattered. Gerard’s eyes snapped open and he sat up in bed.

“Blake?” he called out. No one answered. He glanced at the time and saw that it had only been close to three hours since Blake left.

Gerard clutched the blanket to his body, like it was some sort of protective shield, and waited for more sounds that would tell him what was going on. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom and he stared at the open door, holding his breath in fear.

“Blake?” he called out in a shaky voice when the footsteps grew louder.

The person who finally stepped through the door of the bedroom wasn’t Blake and was the absolute last person he expected to find staring at him from the door of Blake’s bedroom. The eyes that took him in were wide and swimming with concern. They suddenly grew closer as the person ran over to the bed and held Gerard’s face in their shaking, tattooed hands.

“F-Frank?” Gerard stuttered, staring straight into Frank’s eyes that were just inches from his own. Suddenly, all sense of feeling returned to Gerard. He had been so numb to everything between himself and Blake, but the moment Frank’s hands touched his face, there was a rush of pure _feeling_ throughout his entire body. Every part of him felt warm and his stomach did multiple flips; he knew what those flips were, but they felt so unfamiliar at that moment that he was almost surprised by them.

The desire to live had been taken from him by the forceful touches of Frank; the life in him had been taken by his lifeless interactions with Blake; but the life he had lost swam back into every nerve in his body the moment Frank’s rough hands met his cheeks and their eyes locked.


	37. Chapter 36: Dangerous Attachment

Frank held Gerard’s face in his shaking hands and kept his eyes locked with Gerard’s. Even though he wanted to focus on the fading black eye that Gerard had, and to examine Gerard for any other markings or bruises, he kept their eyes together. Gerard also maintained the eye contact for a long, silent while, until he just felt the need to have Frank closer.

So he brought him closer. Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist and pulled him into an embrace. His head awkwardly landed just above Frank’s stomach. He just let it rest there, his arms crossing over each other behind Frank.

Frank was surprised at first, his hands sliding off of Gerard’s face and just hanging in the air. He had to comply, though. He couldn’t deny Gerard anything, even if it was for Gerard’s own sake. One of Frank’s arms rested across Gerard’s shoulders and the other cradled his head, his hand resting over his hair.

Frank shook his head, wondering why Gerard was hugging him instead of cowering away in fear. No matter what Blake had done to Gerard, Frank couldn’t see himself as being a savior after what he’d done. He’d done so much worse than Blake.

Gerard needed comfort, though, and he needed it from Frank, so Frank gave it to him. He sat down on edge of the bed so that their hug was at a lesser awkward angle. Gerard took the better position as an opportunity to hold Frank closer, wrapping his arms even tighter around his back, and resting his forehead against the crook of Frank’s neck. Frank also secured his arms tighter around Gerard’s shoulders.

Gerard began crying silently. The only way Frank was able to even tell was because of the tears he could feel landing on his neck and running down to his shirt. Frank tightened his hold on Gerard, which hardly seemed possible, but he made it happen through his hands gripping at Gerard’s shirt and travelling to his head, running through the knotted strands of hair.

“I probably stink…” Frank commented, still holding Gerard in place.

A breathy and silent laugh came out of Gerard’s lips, hitting Frank’s skin. His laugh was silenced by the sobs threatening to make themselves heard.

“You don’t,” Gerard said in a soft whisper, which was all he could manage. He turned his head so that the tip of his nose was pressed just below Frank’s ear, and his lips just inches from Frank’s neck. “Not at all.”

Frank came to a quick still when he felt Gerard’s lips press against his neck and he could tell it was precisely over his scorpion tattoo. The only sign of movement that came from Frank was the shaky sigh that left his lips.

Gerard didn’t do anything else other than that. He simply let his lips rest there, completely still.

“Gerard,” Frank sighed. Gerard didn’t respond in anyway. Frank gently took hold of Gerard’s shoulders and pushed him back slightly and out of the embrace.

Gerard stared at Frank with a vacant expression that didn’t signal towards any sort of emotion. The only hints towards emotion were the tears running down his cheeks. His glossy eyes stared unwaveringly into Frank’s.

Frank placed his hands back on Gerard’s face again, as he had done earlier. He swept his thumbs gently over the wet tears.

“What has he done to you?” Frank whispered, barely brushing one thumb over Gerard’s bruised eye. He didn’t give Gerard time to answer, though. He stood up off the bed. “Come on, get your stuff.”

“Why?” Gerard asked. For a second, Frank thought he was joking. Gerard was serious, though. He stared up at Frank questioningly, unmoving from the bed.

“You’re not staying with him,” Frank said, his eye brows pulled together. “You can’t stay like this.”

“It’s not as bad,” Gerard said, looking down. His confident eye contact had wavered and he chose to stare at the bed sheets instead of Frank. “It was worse before, but now it’s ok.”

“It’s never been ok,” Frank said. “Even you knew it was never ok, you just couldn’t get out.”

“It’s different now,” Gerard shrugged.

Frank couldn’t be sure if Gerard meant that the relationship was different—which seemed unlikely considering the black eye—or if he meant that he was different and no longer saw what Blake did as a bad thing. Frank knew that if it was the latter then it was his fault. He had no doubt in his mind that if Gerard’s mind had changed, it was because of what Frank had done to him.

“It’s not different,” Frank said. He lifted Gerard’s face up to look at him. The roles had switched. Frank was always the one avoiding eye contact, but now he was the one forcing it. His thumb brushed over the dark colors around Gerard’s eye again. “ _This_ is not ok, Gerard. Y-You deserve so much better than what you’ve been getting, ok? Better than what Blake gives you and so much better than…than…so much better than what I gave you, alright? So, come on.”

“If Blake gets back—” Gerard began..

“I couldn’t give a fuck about Blake if I tired,” Frank interrupted him.

Gerard couldn’t find it in himself to argue with Frank after that. It wasn’t that he agreed or disagreed; there was just no way he wouldn't follow Frank. Frank took Gerard by the hand and gently helped him out of bed, as if he was broken. Gerard was fine for the most part, though, able to carry himself. He was just extremely exhausted and slightly sore. Frank never let his hand go, though.

He asked Gerard where his things were and Gerard pointed to the backpack in the closet. He had kept his clothes in there for some reason. Even though he never planned to run away from Blake, he could never get himself to officially settle back into his and Blake’s home, so he kept all his belongings in that backpack.

“Is that all?” Frank asked, and Gerard nodded, throwing one strap of the backpack over his shoulder.

Frank was about to lead them out of the room when Gerard suddenly pulled his hand away from Frank. Frank turned around and saw Gerard leaning over the bed, folding the blanket that lay on top of it. Frank only recognized the blanket when Gerard was already done folding it and was holding it in his arms.

“You still kept that?” Frank asked. “Even here?”

“It was…it was all I wanted to hold onto,” Gerard shrugged, looking down at the ground as though he was embarrassed that Frank knew. “Is that ok?”

Frank was taken aback by that question. Why would Gerard need Frank’s approval of what was ok and what was not? Why did he need anyone’s approval for that? Even the way he asked it made him sound so vulnerable. He sounded more lost than he had ever been, like he needed complete guidance or else he would sink into absolute darkness with no means of escape.

“Of course it is,” Frank nodded, his response delayed by his ranting thoughts. “Anything is ok if it’s ok with you. No one else needs to think so but you.”

Frank took Gerard’s hand, the one that wasn’t holding onto the blanket, and led them out of the apartment. Gerard only caught a brief look at the shattered window near the door that was obviously Frank’s makeshift entrance.

“You have your car and your keys?” Frank asked when they were outside.

Gerard nodded and pointed towards his car that was parked in a distance in the parking lot. They walked up to it while Gerard rummaged through the pockets of his backpack. When he finally found the keys, Frank took them from him and got into the driver’s seat, unofficially announcing that he was driving. Gerard got into the passenger’s seat and they were off. For a moment, Gerard actually thought that Frank was driving towards his own home, until he noticed that they were taking the path to Gerard and Mikey’s apartment.

“I don’t think Mikey wants me back here,” Gerard mumbled, as they pulled into the parking of the apartment complex.

“What?” Frank turned to look at Gerard. “Who do you think came and told me you were at Blake’s?”

“Mikey came to you?” Gerard asked. “Why?”

Frank put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt. He didn’t get out, deciding to wait until Gerard was ready to go inside.

“He, uh, had your phone and saw all the texts you sent me,” Frank said, scraping his finger against the textured leather of the steering wheel. He swallowed down the guilty lump that had risen in his throat. “He figured something happened…that I had done something…and thought I would know why you went back.”

“Oh,” Gerard half-nodded, simply tilting his head back slightly. “Did you tell him?”

Frank wanted to say “about what,” but playing oblivious was pointless when they both knew exactly what the subject matter was.

“When he came and he was pissed, I thought he already knew,” Frank answered. “But I didn’t tell him. He asked if I hurt you and I said did. It’s up to you if you want to tell him, and only you.”

“I wouldn’t want to tell him…because of you.”

“It doesn’t matter what Mikey thinks of me or if he wants to fucking kill me…he should…it’s about you and how you feel about it.”

Gerard kept his eyes locked on the side of Frank’s face. Frank was intensely staring at the steering wheel, his eye brows together, and his jaw tensed. Every few seconds, he would take a deep breath, his chest heaving, and swallow loudly when he exhaled. Frank looked as bad as Gerard, maybe even worse. He didn't have obvious marks and bruises to signify what he'd been through, but Gerard could tell by how sick he looked that he'd been eating himself up. He didn't have anyone to torture him like Gerard had Blake, so he tortured himself.

“Frank,” Gerard sighed. Frank’s eyes looked up, but not at Gerard; they simply focused on a higher part of the steering wheel. “Can we…can we talk about…why?”

Gerard saw the various ways Frank reacted. His eyes almost looked like they were shut, his finger froze against the steering wheel, shaking, and his lower lip even trembled slightly before he took in a deep breath through his nose.

“I’m sorry,” Frank mumbled, his voice hardly a whisper. “I’m sorry, but I just…can’t.”

With that, Frank swung the car door open and jumped out, hurrying towards the apartment. Gerard stared ahead of him, unmoving. Tears stung at his eyes. He brought his hands up to his eyes and pressed his palms against his closed eyelids. For the past couple of weeks, he felt that his eyes had grown too dry to produce any more tears. With Blake, he didn’t feel the need to cry because he got everything he expected. With Frank, he had hopeful expectations, so he always felt a sense of disappointment if things didn’t go according to what he wanted.

Frank knew he was hurting Gerard. He knew that what Gerard desperately needed was a sense of closure through explanation. Frank would have given Gerard anything, except that he didn’t want to anymore. He didn’t want to give Gerard anything because then Gerard’s kind heart would take him back. He wanted Gerard to hate him and forget him. That monster that Frank turned into was what he wanted Gerard to always remember so that he wouldn’t go near him again.

Frank knocked on the door and it didn’t take long for it to swing open. A wide-eyed Mikey was there, frantically glancing around Frank, obviously looking for his brother.

“Where’s Gerard?” Mikey asked.

“He’s in the car,” Frank said. “I think he just needs a minute, but he’s coming in.”

“Is he ok?” Mikey asked, pushing past Frank to go to the car, but Frank grabbed his arm and held him back. “What? Let me go. Is he alright??”

“He needs a minute,” Frank repeated. “He’s ok.”

Mikey stopped trying to pull away from Frank, so Frank released him.

“I’m gonna get going, alright?” Frank said, his eyes wandering so that they didn’t meet with Mikey’s. “I just wanted to tell you not to leave him alone. The best way for him to fuck himself over is to think a lot, so you just can’t let him be alone that much. Be around him and keep an eye on him. Don’t let him sit in his room and do nothing. Make him get the hell back to work and just keep him busy, alright? That’s what he needs. Make him live…even if he doesn’t want to. He’s…He’s at his lowest right now. If he gets lower, I don’t know how bad it’ll get. So just…don’t let him.”

“What happened?” Mikey asked. “What the fuck happened, Frank? Why is he like this?”

“You need to talk to him,” Frank sighed. “It’s up to him, not me.”

“Is he ok?” Mikey asked again.

Frank looked down at the ground. He knew the answer, in relation to himself and in relation to Gerard. Neither of them was ok and he didn’t know what it would take for them to be ok.

“Right now, probably not,” Frank shrugged. “But he can be. Just stay around him, like I said. He’ll probably want to be alone all the time, but don’t let him. Never let him get far because then…then he never will be ok.”

“Why are you leaving already?” Mikey asked. “You got him out of there. Maybe if you’re here, it’ll be easier to get through to him and—”

“I’m the one person he needs to get far from,” Frank said. “So I should go.”

“Frank, seriously, what—”

“Take care, Mikey,” Frank interrupted him. “Of both of you.”

Frank quickly headed down the stairs before Mikey could question him more and halfway down, he ran into Gerard who was trudging up the stairs with his head down. His head snapped up when he saw Frank.

“Where are you going?” Gerard quickly asked.

“I’m going,” Frank shrugged.

“Why?” Gerard asked, pausing one step below Frank. They were at eye level, eyes forced to look straight into one another.

“You need to take care of yourself, Gerard,” Frank shrugged. “You can’t do that with me. I fucked up and I’m sorry, but you’re just…you need…me being here is not good for you.”

“But…” Gerard paused. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to argue because as far as he knew, Frank was right. He couldn’t explain why he wanted Frank to say. He just did. Gerard couldn’t explain why he just couldn’t let Frank go, no matter how harmful he knew he was. Whether it was for the sake of closure, or for the sake of being overly attached, he just wanted Frank to stay.

Frank waited out of pure curiosity to hear what Gerard would say, but Gerard didn’t say anything and Frank understood because there was absolutely nothing. There would be no positive outcome if Frank stayed in Gerard’s life.

“Take care,” Frank sighed. As he took another step down, he was tempted to wrap his arms around Gerard. He fought the temptation, though, because there was no need to fuel that dangerous attachment that was already there.


	38. Chapter 37: Wavering Resistance

Frank had gotten his life back together for the most part after his boss had called him at the end of the month when the income showed a significant drop. Frank was going to just tell his boss that he was done; his attachment to the store, however, forced him to fight to keep it. He explained to his boss that he had been going through a lot in his personal life without going into full detail. He told Frank that his next paycheck would make up for the profits that they lost in the two weeks that Frank wasn’t at work, and Frank agreed eagerly to that small punishment that should have been a lot bigger.

After Frank had left Gerard’s and Mikey’s apartment, he was ready to crawl back into his hole of a home and continue on a downward spiral, but that was when his boss called. Right after he got off the phone, Frank forced himself into the shower first, and scrubbed his body until it was sore and practically burning. Once he was clean, he went on the even harder mission of cleaning the mess that was supposed to be his home.

As he straightened up his life through straightening up his home, Frank still felt no desire to live. There was a vacant feeling in his stomach that made him nauseous. There was a strong temptation to drink himself back towards nothing. The temptation was there with every empty bottle picked up. Somehow, he managed to resist...for the moment.

Working was the best distraction for him. He would plug his ears with headphones and pass the day by that way. There were times where he could convince himself that life was just the way it had been before he met Gerard. He was able to lie to his own mind about hurting Gerard the way he had. He was able to forget the smallest of the memories that held more significance than he ever thought possible. That could never last, though. The guilt, the longing, the nostalgia…they were all too strong to even think about forgetting them.

Frank wasn’t anywhere near ok. He couldn’t be. He needed some sort of attachment to the hole he’d dug himself in, like a handful of dirt, or a remnant of the corpse he had become…almost like a souvenir. Frank’s souvenir was his alcohol. The alcohol was that one thing he could still be attached to. It was the one thing from his spree of destruction that he could hold onto. So he held onto it, and continued it in the same fashion. Day on and day off. It almost became like a ritual to him. He would come home from work and go straight for the fridge, automatically taking out two or three bottles, depending on how numbed out he needed to be. The next day, his headache was only minor, and mostly due to his stressed state rather than the actual alcohol. The numbness and haziness that came along with the alcohol, as well as the reminiscent ritual every other night, made it all worth it. He couldn’t forget, but he could come close.

Forgetting was made even harder when Frank began receiving calls from Gerard about a week and a half after he’d left him at he and Mikey’s apartment. Frank choked on his gasp when he first saw Gerard show up on his caller ID. He was at home getting ready to bed when he received the first call. There was a strong pull towards the answer button that Frank managed to resist. If Gerard wanted to be back in Frank’s life, Frank wouldn’t be able to resist him. He didn’t have the strength to continuously push Gerard away. For Gerard’s sake, Frank couldn’t give in. Even if he wanted to, and even if Gerard wanted to, he knew that wasn’t good for Gerard. So he ignored the call.

He ignored every call he received for the next few nights. It was always one call each night, right when he was about to sleep. Gerard had lived with Frank so he knew his schedule pretty well. Every night, resisting only got harder and harder. Each night, he felt a different emotion. Some nights, it was paranoia that something was wrong. Other nights, it was anger at why Gerard would even _want_ to be in touch with Frank after what had happened. Most nights, though, it was just sadness. It was this physical sadness that Frank could feel in every inch of his body. It made him feel so heavy and suffocated because he wanted to answer and he wanted to hear Gerard’s voice and he wanted to have Gerard in every way possible. The thought that he couldn’t and wouldn’t left his chest feeling heavy and constricted.

It had been a full two weeks since Frank left Gerard and the nightly calls had continued. Frank even waited for them, staring at his phone as he lay in bed, and just waiting for it to light up.

He lay on his side, his phone resting on his pillow. When it lit up, it wasn’t for a call. Frank peered over the screen and saw that it was a text message instead. That was different. He quickly opened the message and saw, not too surprisingly, that it was from Gerard. What was surprising, though, was what the message said.

“I’m outside.”

Frank automatically stared through his open bedroom door towards his living room. Would Gerard actually do that? Would he go that far? Frank sat up in bed and just held his phone in his hand, staring at it. Before the screen went back to black, it lit up brighter as another text arrived.

“Open or I’ll just take notes from you and break a window.”

Frank’s mouth dropped open.

“He can’t be fucking be serious…” Frank whispered to the darkness of his room.

As if responding directly to his words, Gerard sent another text: “Frank, I’m fucking serious.” Just seconds later, he received another: “It’s cold. Hurry.”

Frank swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and threw his phone aside as he swung his legs over the bed. He made his way into the living room, switching the light on and going up to the front door. He just stood there, his hand on the door knob. Gerard was on the other side of the door. Though all of Frank’s red flags were waving in the air, Frank couldn’t deny the fact that he missed Gerard. He missed his face and just missed seeing him. All the resisting he’d done for the past week crumbled with the thought that Gerard was just a door apart from him.

Frank finally unlocked the door and pulled it open. Gerard was standing outside, holding his phone near his face with one hand, and the other hand was wrapped around his body, attempting to aid he jacket he had on in keeping him warm. His eyes snapped up from his phone and met Frank’s. Gerard’s cheeks were just slightly flushed, matching the light pink color at the tip of his nose. Frank could see Gerard’s chest rise slowly as he took a deep breath, and then a puff of air leave his lips when he exhaled. Frank watched every movement carefully. Gerard sniffled and ran his hand under his nose.

“It’s cold,” Gerard commented, glancing around and then into Frank’s apartment.

Frank couldn’t get himself to speak, so he just stepped back and held the door open for Gerard. Gerard examined Frank’s face for a second before he stepped in; there was no point in trying to read what Frank was feeling and he knew that.

Gerard made himself comfortable. As Frank slowly shut the door, Gerard slipped out of his jacket and placed it next to him and then he sat on the sofa. Frank turned to face him and just stared silently, trying to hide the deep and slightly shaky breaths he was taking.

Frank noticed that Gerard was dressed in his work clothes, his tie just slightly loosened around his neck, and his hair messily ruffled out of the neat way it had probably been styled. He was glad that Gerard was back at work already.

Frank leaned against the door and looked down at his feet when Gerard looked up at him. He couldn’t handle the eye contact.

“What…” Frank cleared his throat, finding it difficult to speak. “Why are you here?” Frank asked, maintaining a completely monotone voice.

Gerard was staring at Frank, hoping Frank would look up at him. It didn’t work, so Gerard just sat back in the sofa and stared ahead of him, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You didn’t answer,” Gerard answered simply.

“Why would you call?” Frank asked immediately, hardly a second after Gerard finished speaking. His voice was still monotone. His eyes were still locked on his feet.

“To talk,” Gerard answered almost as quickly. “Why didn’t you answer?”

Frank scoffed, shaking his head.

“What?” Gerard asked. Frank didn’t say anything, though. He just stood there, unmoving.

“I don’t get why you’re here,” Frank sighed. “I don’t get why you called. But you don’t need to be here…near me. So, just…” Frank took a deep breath and brought his palm up to the back of his neck, rubbing at it furiously. “Just go, Gerard, alright?”

Frank pushed himself off the door and began walking towards his bedroom, his eyes trained on his feet. Gerard quickly stood up off the sofa and grabbed Frank’s upper arm, holding him back.

“Let go,” Frank said, still not turning to face Gerard.

“No,” Gerard spoke firmly.

“Ger—”

“No!” Gerard interrupted him, tugging on Frank’s arm so that he turned and finally faced Gerard. He released his arm. “No, this isn’t fucking fair, Frank.”

“Nothing is,” Frank shrugged, glancing to his side, towards the kitchen. He would do anything to avoid Gerard’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the emotions in them. Hearing them in his voice was already hard enough.

“You’re not my fucking parent,” Gerard said, wrapping one arm around himself. “I don’t tell you it’s not fair so you can tell me the world isn’t fair. I tell you because you can fucking make this fair to me.”

“There isn’t…” Frank shook his head, tucking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “There isn’t any fairness…in anything.”

“Bullshit, Frank,” Gerard sighed, shrugging his shoulder lightly. “That’s total bullshit. You can make this fair by explaining to me why—”

“Why, what?!” Frank exclaimed, finally turning his face to face Gerard. He threw his arms out, holding them out wide. He had to push harder. He had to push Gerard away and make him leave. “Why is that gonna help?? Why? So you can fucking forgive me and act like I didn’t do anything wrong?? I’m not gonna fucking let you do that!”

“If I have a reason to forgive you, then what’s wrong with that?” Gerard asked.

“Everything!” Frank yelled, running both his hands through his hair and holding them there. “I told you…I told you that day that you can never forgive me.”

“You can’t make that decision for me,” Gerard shook his head.

“I can and I am,” Frank said, his hands dropping to his side.

“No,” Gerard shook his head. His hand that was holding onto his elbow tightened slightly. “No, you can’t. You fucking can’t. You can’t do that to me, Frank!”

“I’ve done worse,” Frank sighed, looking down again. “I’ve done so much worse to you…this is nothing.”

“Make up for it,” Gerard said, taking a step closer to Frank. “Just…all I’m asking for is an explanation, Frank. Please. I need it. I need it so fucking bad, I just need to understand. Not knowing…it’s killing me.”

Frank shook his head, his teeth attacking the inside of his lip, nipping at the flesh around his lip ring. He swallowed and Gerard heard it. Frank was slowly cracking and he could see it happening.

“Please…” Gerard sighed, reaching out to touch Frank’s arm. His fingers just barely brushed below Frank’s elbow, moving cautiously.

Frank cringed because he could feel the way his skin reacted to the touch of Gerard’s hand. There was a rush through his body and a warmth in his stomach, from the slightest of touches from Gerard’s fingertips. That was the problem. Frank would give in. He would give in to Gerard’s weakness and he would hurt him again…

“No,” Frank said, pulling his arm back and out of reach. “Why do you keep coming back? Why the fuck didn’t you take the hint and get scared and run the fuck away?”

Gerard swallowed and just stared into Frank’s narrowed eyes. He shrugged, but didn’t say anything else.

“Do you even realize what happened?” Frank shook his head. “Has it hit you what exactly happened?”

Gerard silently nodded.

“Then it would be fucking smart to walk away,” Frank said.

He turned away from Gerard and began walking towards his bedroom. Gerard wasn’t done yet, though. He ran after Frank and stopped him just at the door of the bedroom by grabbing his arm.

“Stop, Gerard!” Frank yelled, pulling his arm away from Gerard and turning to face him. He had to keep pushing. He took hold of the front of Gerard’s shirt and pushed his back against the door of the closed bathroom. “I fucking raped you, Gerard! Why are you still coming after me?! I FUCKING RAPED YOU!”

Gerard swallowed and stared into Frank’s angry eyes. He didn’t do anything to fight with Frank. He just stood there and looked over the angry features of Frank’s face, his flaring nostrils, his tensed jaw, his wide eyes, and his furrowed eye brows. Gerard didn’t even acknowledge the slight pain in his back from hitting the door.

“What are you doing?” Frank hissed, tightening his rip in Gerard’s shirt. “Why are you just looking at me? Hit me, Gerard.”

Gerard shook his head.

“Hit me,” Frank pressed, his knuckles turning white from the tightening grip he had on Gerard’s shirt.

Gerard shook his head again.

“Hurt me,” Frank practically begged, his voice losing its angry edge. “Fucking hurt me, Gerard.” Frank’s forehead dropped to his hands, shaking his head. “Why won’t you hurt me…why don’t you get back at me?”

“I don’t…” Gerard sighed, resting his head back against the door. “I don’t want to.”

“Why?” Frank asked, his head snapping up. Gerard met his eyes and was taken aback by the glossiness of Frank’s wide eyes. There were tears just threatening to spill down Frank’s cheeks. “Why don’t you hurt me? Why?? I fucking deserve it, Gerard. Please.”

“Frank,” Gerard spoke softly.

“Stop,” Frank interrupted him. He could already hear the kindness in Gerard’s voice and he knew it was because Gerard had seen the tears in his eyes. But sympathy was not what he was asking for. He did not deserve anything remotely similar to sympathy. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Gerard?? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?? You can’t let people like me hurt you! You can’t keep fucking coming back! Why the fuck do you come back??”

Gerard couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Anger was what he was supposed to feel for Frank. He couldn’t understand how he could be angry at Frank when he was so apologetic and obviously regretful. Gerard had never seen so much remorse from anyone who had ever hurt him like he was seeing in Frank at that moment. He knew Frank wanted Gerard to hurt him and get even and he would have if he had the slightest desire to do so.

“Why, Gerard?!” Frank yelled, his voice loud and angry, but coated with desperation.

Gerard wondered why. Why did he continue going back to Frank? It wasn’t the same as when he went back to Blake. Going back to Blake was always different; every time Gerard went back it was always either out of guilt or a sense of self-punishment. With Frank, it was different. He kept saying he wanted answers, and even though that was true, it wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted Frank. That was why he kept coming back. No matter what happened, he couldn’t stop wanting Frank.

“Because,” Gerard said, his voice suddenly feeling trapped in his throat. “Because I think…” Gerard swallowed, the lump in his dry throat feeling painful.

“What??” Frank pressed on. “Why the fuck do you?? Let me hear this fucking reason, Gerard.”

“Because I think I might love you, alright?!” Gerard burst out. His cheeks immediately flushed and it took all the courage he had not to avoid Frank’s gaze.

Frank’s eyes widened and they darted wildly as they roamed every part of Gerard’s face, searching for a sign that Gerard was either lying or completely insane.

“Shut the fuck up,” Frank shook his head. “Do not fucking say that.”

“I said I might love you and that’s what you say to me, Frank??” Gerard scoffed. He suddenly recalled the last time he got Frank to open up. It was the day after Frank had encountered Kevin. Gerard had to use strong words and anger to get a reaction out of Frank that day so that he would let him in. Gerard knew that it was only through the same anger that he could get through to Frank. Gerard shoved at Frank’s shoulders and pushed him off of him, Frank’s fists easily letting loose of Gerard’s shirt. “Stop fucking pretending.”

Frank just took a couple steps back, his hands at his sides, staring at Gerard who was gesticulating wildly with his hands.

“Stop fucking acting like you don’t feel anything!” Gerard continued his angry rant. “You just keep covering it up with all this-all this”—Gerard waved his hand aimlessly at Frank, as if that was enough to complete his sentence—“this anger! So stop doing that and tell me what the hell you feel! You keep fucking tell me I need to stand up for myself, and not to take shit from people, so here! Here! I’m doing it now! Now give me something that makes it worth it!”

Frank looked down for just a second before he looked back up at Gerard. He felt like Gerard’s demanding tone was forcing him to maintain the eye contact.

“I don’t have anything,” Frank said. “I don’t have anything to give you.”

“I’m telling you exactly what to give me,” Gerard sighed, lowering his voice now. He knew he had gotten across to Frank and now it was a matter of making his words stick. “I’m telling you to just tell me how you feel about me.” Gerard pressed a hand to his own chest. He could feel his heart racing beneath his palm. It was driving him crazy throughout the entire confrontation. It was fearfully beating, waiting for the result of all the yelling. “I know I said something big, but you don’t have to say that. You don’t have to feel like that, too. Just tell me anything. Tell me anything about how you feel. It doesn’t have to be love, alright?”

“I might, though,” Frank suddenly said, his head down.

“Y-You might…might what?” Gerard asked, his eyes widening.

“I might feel that,” Frank shrugged, swallowing loudly. “It might…might be love. I don’t know. But even if it is, I can’t let it happen. I can’t let myself love…love you. I can’t let _this_ happen.”

“Y-You can,” Gerard shook his head, smiling stupidly as a strange warm feeling surged through his body. His heart began beating even faster, making him nauseous from the strength of each beat. “You fucking can, Frank. _We_ can.”

Frank shook his head frantically, eyes still down. His hair hung over his eyes, the strands of his hair waving with each shake of his head.

“No, we ca—”

Frank had begun with his objection, but Gerard wasn’t having any of it. On nothing but impulse, Gerard took the two short strides towards Frank and took a tight grip on Frank’s shoulders. He pushed him backwards until Frank’s back hit the wall harder than Gerard’s back had hit the door earlier. Gerard stood in front of him for a couple seconds, wide and hazel eyes meeting and unmoving.

One second, Frank was staring into Gerard’s eyes, and the next second he wasn’t because Gerard’s lips were pressed against his own. Frank’s eyes remained open for a short moment as he contemplated moving away. That didn’t last because Gerard’s lips on his posed too strong of an argument.

Frank shut his eyes and just let go. He allowed himself the kiss without questioning it. It felt too perfect to question. When he began moving his lips along with Gerard’s, that pleasurable feeling only strengthened. Their lips fit perfectly together. Frank couldn’t even imagine it getting much better and was quickly proven wrong when Gerard’s lips parted just slightly, a moist and hot breath hitting Frank’s bottom lip as it was surrounded by Gerard’s lips. He followed suit and parted his lips as well. There were no boundaries for him to follow. He just had to do what felt good and what felt right.

Gerard’s hands slid down Frank’s shoulders to his waist, sliding between Frank’s back and the wall and pulling his body closer to Gerard’s. Frank’s hands that had been trapped between the two of them slid up Gerard’s clothed chest, lingering there for a moment, before they wrapped around Gerard’s neck. He slid his fingers across the skin on the back of Gerard’s neck, relishing in the simple act of feeling the flesh there, before he settled them in Gerard’s hair, pulling Gerard even closer to him.

Frank couldn’t help the embarrassing groan that left his throat when their tongues met within the kiss. Gerard’s grip around Frank’s back tightened, keeping their bodies pressed tightly together, when he heard and felt the gratified sound that Frank made.

Frank’s entire body, driven with desire, suddenly took charge. His feet bounced up so that he was standing on his tiptoes, pressing his mouth further into the kiss. Gerard’s tongue easily took to this change, giving in to the movements of Frank’s hungry dominance. Frank wanted, needed, craved, and yearned for so much more. His body surged forward, arms crossing over each other behind Gerard’s neck, as Gerard walked backward and his back was reacquainted with the door of the bathroom. He grunted slightly and pulled his lips away, resting his head back as he caught his breath.

Frank wasn’t taking any breaks. He pressed an open mouth to the side of Gerard’s neck. Gerard gasped softly, his eyes fluttering shut. Frank’s hot mouth glided over every part of his neck, his tongue not leaving a single patch of skin on Gerard’s neck untouched. Frank placed softer, more innocent kisses, against the crook of Gerard’s neck. He felt Gerard shiver when his lips touched a small area between his collar bone and the crook of his neck, so he secured his lips around the spot and was quick to suck. Gerard sucked in a loud breath through his nose and let out a soft moan as he exhaled.

“God,” Gerard groaned. Frank released Gerard’s skin from his mouth and quickly peered up at him, worried that he had done anything to upset him. Gerard looked down at Frank’s wet and red lips and couldn’t believe the sight—or the feelings—before him. Gerard smiled and brought a hand to the back of Frank’s neck. “Fucking finally.”

He pulled Frank back into a sloppy and uncoordinated kiss that was still coated with a hunger that grew more and more ravenous after every touch of skin, lips, and tongue. Frank’s resistance had been wavering slightly, but now, it was completely gone as he gave in to every desire that he felt.


	39. Chapter 38: Lasting Moment

“Oh my—” Gerard’s exclamation was ended with an indecipherable groan. He had his head thrown back against the door of the bathroom, as Frank’s mouth sucked and bit at the most sensitive areas of Gerard’s neck while his hips rolled forward against Gerard.

All Gerard felt was heat. Heat wherever Frank’s mouth was, heat where Frank’s body met with his, heat where he still craved to be touched; it was a tingling heat that caused him to groan and moan even when Frank was hardly doing anything to him. Everything Frank did felt like it was magnified a million times more just because it was _Frank_ doing it.

Frank had one tattooed hand braced against the side of Gerard’s neck, pushing the opposite side into his mouth so that there was more pressure in the contact. His other hand had slid beneath Gerard’s shirt, resting on the skin of his hip. Gerard didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just clutched onto the sides of Frank’s shirt. As long as Frank was doing something, he was rendered incapable of doing anything. All he felt and thought was pleasure; nothing else was going through his mind at that moment.

Frank was in nearly the same boat as Gerard. He was definitely lost in this whirlwind of heated pleasure, but he wasn’t gaining it through Gerard’s mouth or hands on his skin; what was really pleasuring Frank at that moment was to know he was pleasuring Gerard. Whenever he felt Gerard tense up, shudder, or tighten his grip on Frank’s shirt; whenever he heard a gasp, a groan, a moan, or a breathless muttering of words; whenever he felt or heard that he was making Gerard feel good, Frank felt an overwhelming rush of pleasure through every part of his body. It drove him forward to do so much more. He never wanted Gerard to stop feeling good.

Frank moved his hand to the back of Gerard’s neck, his fingers wrapping around a few strands of hair so that he could pull Gerard’s head back. With better access to the front of Gerard’s neck, Frank placed wet kisses over Gerard’s Adams apple and beneath his chin. Gerard’s hands pulled at Frank’s shirt, urging him closer. Frank released Gerard’s hair, running his fingers up to the back of his scalp, and pulling Gerard’s face down. His lips met with Gerard’s right away in a kiss coated with short pants of air and grunts of need.

Gerard couldn’t remember when his feet began moving forward, walking Frank back towards his bedroom. They stumbled slightly, lips pulling apart, only to seek each other once again. When they got to the doorway, they paused, Frank wrapping both arms around Gerard’s neck, keeping him within the kiss. It was like his lips couldn’t handle being far from Gerard now that they had gotten acquainted with him.

Once their lips came apart, they actually took a few moments to catch their breath. Frank still kept his arms locked around Gerard’s neck, and Gerard held Frank’s hips. They kept their bodies close as they walked towards Frank’s bed. Gerard was about to take the lead and push Frank onto the bed, but Frank swiftly turned them around, gently pushing Gerard back so that he was seated on the edge of the mattress.

Frank’s hands slid down to Gerard’s shoulders, resting there, as he got situated between Gerard’s legs. Gerard had his head tilted slightly upwards, and Frank had his head down, their eyes locked. There was always a glaze of confusion on the rare chance that their eyes met. For once, it wasn’t that way. This time, there was a sureness, an agreement. They both wanted the same thing. They wanted each other and that was all their eyes communicated, making the eye contact easy to maintain.

Frank had to slouch forward slightly so that his lips could connect with Gerard’s again. The kisses were less fervent now, coming in the form of small pecks. Frank kissed Gerard’s lips, around them, his jaw, and back to his lips.

“Do you…do you want this to happen?” Frank asked, pulling back from the kisses.

Gerard looked down at his finger that was toying with the hem of Frank’s shirt, and then back up at Frank, nodding.

“Are you sure?” Frank asked. “After what happened, I—”

Gerard cut Frank off with a kiss, quickly pulling his face down. The innocence with which Frank had kissed Gerard seconds ago was gone, replaced by the original hunger and impatience. Gerard’s hands joined behind Frank’s back, pulling him closer. Their crotches met and there was a simultaneous growl from the two of them that escaped their lips as they separated for a millisecond, only to join back together again.

Frank’s arms were wrapped around Gerard’s shoulders in an almost protective embrace. Gerard could feel the security in each of Frank’s movements. His hands weren’t roaming lustily over Gerard’s body; instead, they were situated in place just to keep Gerard close to him. The way he inhaled deeply within the kiss every few seconds wasn’t just to catch his breath; it was to really inhale every part of the kiss. And the way his body pressed against Gerard’s, though filled with pleasures, was in a simple desire to just be close with no boundaries.

Gerard could have spent the entire night that way, but he couldn’t deny that his body was craving so much more. He pulled back from the kiss and slipped his hands beneath Frank’s shirt, sliding it up. Frank took the hint right away, and helped Gerard pull the shirt off. Once he was shirtless, Frank pulled Gerard close again, grinding his crotch against Gerard as he did so.

Gerard gasped and stared up at Frank, whose mouth was hung open and his eyes shut tight as his hips rolled into Gerard’s crotch. Gerard let out a small moan before pressing his lips to Frank’s chest, going tongue-first, tracing Frank’s tattoos. Frank’s chest was covered entirely with ink and Gerard wanted his mouth touch every trace of ink on Frank’s body. He ran his lips and tongue down lower, and then brought them back up. He could hear Frank let out a soft hum on every exhale of his breath.

Gerard maneuvered his lips up towards Frank’s neck, stopping to suck briefly just above his left nipple. Frank’s knees buckled, causing him to surge forward a bit, moaning breathily. Gerard’s lips reached Frank’s neck, staying still there.

“I’m guessing,” Gerard sighed, his lips brushing over the crook of Frank’s neck, “you don’t have anything.”

“Wha’?” Frank breathed out, the hair on the top of Gerard’s head tickling his lower lip.

“Um, condom or lube…you know,” Gerard said, smiling into Frank’s neck. He began kissing it slowly, using mostly tongue.

“Oh,” Frank said, but Gerard couldn’t tell if it was an “oh” of realization or pleasure. “Do we…do we really need…”

“It’ll…be…easier,” Gerard replied between kisses.

“I don’t have anything,” Frank sighed. “I…shit…I don’t wanna wait.” Frank wasn’t usually so straightforward about what he wanted, but his body had taken over, speaking its desires.

“It’ll hurt less,” Gerard said.

“I don’t care about pain,” Frank said. He had hurt Gerard, so if he had to be hurt in the process of pleasuring Gerard, then so be it.

“Both of us, though,” Gerard murmured.

Frank and Gerard had been on the same wavelength for most of the night, until then. Gerard assumed he’d be the one taking; he always had been. He couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t taking. Frank, though, wouldn’t be doing that to Gerard again. The last time he’d been on the giving end, he’d hurt Gerard. He wanted this experience to be entirely different and he wanted it to be about Gerard more than himself. That was why he wasn’t concerned with lube or pain, and that was why Gerard was.

Frank groaned with impatience and indecisiveness. Gerard could sense that, so he began kissing Frank’s neck again.

“If you don’t want it,” Gerard whispered, “it’s ok.”

“No, no,” Frank shook his head, pulling away from Gerard. Even if _he_ didn’t care about the pain, he would do things however Gerard wanted. “You’re right.”

“It’s ok if you don’t want—”

“It’s what you want,” Frank said, holding Gerard by his shoulders at arm’s length. “There’s a store down the street. I can be back in, like, less than ten minutes.”

Frank bent over to pick up his shirt and when he stood back up, Gerard took hold of his wrist and pulled him back into his earlier position. Frank stared down at Gerard, who had his mouth open as if he were going to say something. Gerard took a deep breath and shut his eyes, placing his palm over Frank’s chest.

“Can you just…” Gerard sighed, his eye brows furrowing. He opened his eyes and looked up at Frank. “Can you just not change your mind when you get back…please?”

A lump crept up Frank’s throat suddenly at the worry etched in Gerard’s face and in his words. Of course he thought Frank would have a change of mind. Frank hadn’t been consistent or reliable in anything, so of course Gerard feared that these moments were only temporary and if they stopped now, they wouldn’t return.

“I won’t,” Frank said, hoping his voice sounded sure enough for Gerard. He leaned forward and gave Gerard a quick kiss. “I promise I won’t.”

Frank pulled away and slipped his shirt on. Gerard nodded hesitantly and watched Frank search around the room for his wallet and keys. Once he found them in a pile of clothes, he grabbed a hoodie that was also aimlessly thrown on the ground, and pulled it on. He offered Gerard a quick glance that he hoped was somehow comforting before he made his way out of the room. Gerard fell back against the bed when he heard the front door shut. All he could do was wait and see if things would actually continue.

Frank was hurrying down the sidewalk towards the store. The wind was cold against his hoodie that wasn’t providing much protection, but it didn’t matter. He just had to get the store and back as quickly as possible. Frank tried hard not to allow himself to think, because if he did, he might have found a reason to stop what was happening between himself and Gerard.

Frank could never stop himself from thinking, though, so thoughts began pouring into Frank’s mind. For once, they weren’t negative things that held Frank back; they were actually thoughts that pushed Frank forward. The one thing that was repeating through Frank’s mind was the way Gerard begged him not to change his mind before he returned. As sad as it seemed, it brought a smile to Frank’s face because Gerard _knew_ him. No matter how much Frank tried to keep Gerard out, and no matter how many walls he built around himself, Gerard got through it all and straight to Frank. He knew him. He knew Frank had a tendency to act on impulse and then regret it not long after. He knew that Frank had an even greater tendency to overthink everything in his life, which kept him from doing a lot of things. He knew that things with Frank should be done quickly so that Frank wouldn’t have time to think about them. He knew him. Gerard knew Frank. If there was anyone Frank could reveal himself to, it was Gerard, because he had already seen most of Frank. He saw it and accepted it. Frank knew that if he let someone like Gerard go, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Solitude had seemed like the best and only option, but with Gerard, it didn’t have to be. Gerard was so much better than solitude. The thought of being alone seemed painful now that he had more than a taste of having Gerard near.

Frank stood outside his door now, condoms and lube in his pocket. It seemed like the process of going to the store and buying what he needed was clouded by the thoughts and decision making going on in his head the entire time.

Frank took a deep breath and opened his door. He stepped into the apartment and took his hoodie off at the door. He threw it on the sofa and stood by the door for a few seconds, recovering from the cold outside. He shut his eyes and took deep breaths. His decision had been made.

He walked over to the bedroom and stood at the door. Gerard lay in the bed, staring up at the ceiling, unaware of Frank’s presence. When Frank stepped further into the room, Gerard rolled his head to the side and saw him. His eyes widened slightly and he quickly sat up. Frank could see the uncertainty in Gerard’s eyes as he waited for Frank to approach him.

Frank walked up to Gerard, standing in front of him and they just held each other’s gaze. Frank broke the gaze to look down at Gerard’s tie. He wrapped the fabric of the tie firmly around his knuckles, and used it to pull Gerard to him. Gerard gasped as their lips met suddenly. It didn’t take him long to collect himself, though, and properly engage in the kiss.

Things seemed to move a lot faster than before, impatience guiding their every movement. Gerard’s hands were indecisively travelling from the hem of Frank’s shirt to his hair, wanting him shirtless but also wanting to keep pushing him into the kiss. Frank made the decision for him, pulling away from the kiss so that he could get his shirt off, but as soon as it was off, Gerard’s lips pursued Frank’s again. Their lips met in the same open and breathy fashion as they had been for most of the night.

Frank groaned every time Gerard’s tongue or teeth played at his lip ring, which was often because Gerard couldn’t get enough of it—both the lip ring and Frank’s approving sounds. When Frank was able to gather his mind enough, he progressed things further, gently pushing Gerard back so he was laying on the bed, his legs still hanging over the side. Frank loomed over Gerard as he pushed himself back so that his entire body was on the bed. Once Gerard was situated, Frank lowered his lips to Gerard’s neck. He skipped the kissing and went straight to sucking on a patch of skin. Gerard sighed a whispered, “Fuck,” tilting his head back into the bed so that Frank had the access he needed.

Frank undid Gerard’s tie while kissing the fresh mark he’d made. He began undoing the buttons of Gerard’s shirt when the tie was out of the way, kissing every bit of pale skin as it was revealed. He kissed a line all the way down to where Gerard’s pants stopped him, and then back up to his neck, Gerard’s body fidgeting beneath him the entire time. Frank sat up, straddling Gerard at that point, and Gerard quickly sat up so that he could get his shirt off.

The light in Frank’s room was dim, but not dim enough that Frank and Gerard couldn’t clearly see each other. Every part of their skin was visible to one another and so Frank couldn’t help but stare down at the various marks on Gerard’s torso, some of them obviously new. Gerard could see the change in Frank’s expression. It was obvious in the way Frank’s eyes took in his body, not lustful and wandering, but careful and taking the time to look at every bruise, scar, and marking.

“Frank,” Gerard sighed, shutting his eyes. He felt uncomfortable, and on top of that, he wanted things to continue moving forward. “Can you just—”

“Wait,” Frank interrupted him. Gerard’s hands had moved up to Frank’s hips, but Frank pulled them away, leaving them outstretched on the bed. “I’ve just… Give me a minute.”

Gerard stared up at Frank, waiting to see what he would do next. Frank lowered himself again, repeatedly kissing every inch of Gerard’s stomach, which was where there seemed to be the most marks. Gerard let his head fall to the side, pleasured sighs backed by short moans slipping out of his mouth. He lifted his head when he felt Frank sit up again.

Now, Frank had his eyes shut, and his hands travelled up to Gerard’s chest. They rested there, his rough skin gently caressing the softness of Gerard’s chest. Gerard’s heartbeat was rapid against Frank’s palms and it made Frank smile slightly. Slowly, he dragged his hands down over Gerard’s stomach, his fingers spreading out to run over Gerard’s skin. His hands slipped down to Gerard’s hips and then ran up his sides, a soft chuckle coming out of Gerard’s mouth; Frank could even feel the laugh as Gerard’s body shook ever so slightly with it. That also made Frank smile.

“I’m ticklish,” Gerard explained, sighing in relief when Frank decided to run his hands over Gerard’s shoulders instead.

Seemingly content, Frank’s hands slid over Gerard’s arms until they reached Gerard’s hands and took hold of them. Frank opened his eyes once he was low enough to be face-to-face with Gerard.

“Enjoy yourself?” Gerard smirked, Frank’s face just an inch from his. Frank nodded, his and Gerard’s fingers lacing together. Gerard didn’t know why Frank had done what he did and he wouldn’t ask or question it, as long as it brought them closer instead of driving them apart.

Frank had virtually eliminated Gerard's body of its various scars and bruises. He had viewed Gerard's skin with his hands and not his eyes, fooling his fingers into believing that Gerard was rid of every painful mark on his body.

Their lips were together again in a chaste embrace, interrupted by Frank sitting up again. This time, he was only separating their lips and hands in order to progress things further. He slid down Gerard’s body, lowering himself so that he was facing Gerard’s still-clothed crotch. Gerard groaned in anticipation, Frank teasingly running a hand up Gerard’s inner thigh, but stopping it before it got where Gerard wanted it to. He wasn’t too much of a tease, though, his other hand working on getting Gerard’s pants undone.

Gerard quickly helped Frank pull the pants off, both of them in such a rush that Gerard’s boxers slipped right off with the pants. Frank got the pants completely off, sliding off Gerard’s socks along the way. He slid his hands up Gerard’s thighs; one hand continued up until it rested over Gerard’s chest, while the other hand stopped its journey at Gerard’s dick. Frank took hold of Gerard’s dick at the base and ran his firm first up to the tip and back. Gerard was taking deeper and longer breaths with every stroke that Frank gave him.

Gerard held Frank’s hand that was on his chest, weaving their fingers together. A loud gasp scraped through his throat when he felt Frank’s mouth surround the tip of his dick. He wasn’t actually expecting Frank to give him _that._

“Ah…oh, fuck,” Gerard moaned at the feeling of Frank’s tongue whirling around his tip, just before he lowered his head and took more of Gerard into his mouth.

Frank had never actually given a blowjob before. He was entirely inexperienced, so he had to go off of what he knew through what was done to him. He bobbed his head up and down, quickly and repeatedly, sucking roughly every time he took more in. He had his eyes shut, focused on the task before him. He could feel Gerard’s reactions through the heaving of his chest and his hand tightening around Frank’s; and he could hear it in the way Gerard moaned softly every time he breathed out.

Frank attempted to take more of Gerard into his mouth, moving his hand from the base. He didn’t know how much he could take without gagging, but he would try. He felt Gerard just slightly nudge the back of his throat, and then felt Gerard tense up considerably when it happened, so he did it again.

“Oh my God,” Gerard groaned, arching his back, while managing to keep his hips in place so that he didn’t push too far into Frank’s throat. Frank repeated the motion, holding Gerard’s dick just at the back of his throat while swallowing. “Fucking…fuck, fuck, Frank, fuck.” 

Frank could feel his throat verging on the edge of a gag, so he slid his mouth all the way to the tip, gently scraping his teeth along the tip, before taking Gerard back in, almost fully. “O-Oh my God!” Gerard had his head thrown back, unable to even look at Frank as he did what he did because it would surely drive him over the edge. “F-Frank…ah…Frank, stop.”

Frank immediately pulled his mouth off of Gerard, absolutely willing to stop everything if that was what Gerard wanted. Frank had his wide and concerned eyes locked on Gerard, but Gerard wasn’t looking at him yet. He still had his head thrown back and his eyes shut.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked, his voice shot already.

Gerard sighed and finally looked down at Frank. Frank’s lips were wet and slightly swollen and his face was still right by Gerard’s dick. Gerard couldn’t believe any of it was actually happening. He shook his head and grabbed Frank’s arm, pulling him up towards him so that they were face-to-face instead of face-to-dick.

“I’m not a fucking porn star so I’m not gonna be able to hold out if you keep doing that to me,” Gerard said, looking at Frank with a serious expression on his face.

Frank’s face broke out into a smile and he leaned down to kiss Gerard, holding his face in both his hands.

“You fucking scared me,” Frank whispered.

“Sorry,” Gerard smiled.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you came, though,” Frank said, moving his lips along Gerard’s jawline and situating them behind Gerard’s ear.

“I know,” Gerard sighed. “But I kind of want a lot more than that.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, placing a few more kisses behind Gerard’s ear. He sat up, pulled the condoms and lube out of his pocket, and tossed them onto the bed. He got off of Gerard so he could get his own pants and underwear off, then was back on him, nothing but the touch of skin between them. That feeling that they had both longed for, of being there with absolutely no boundaries—both literally and figuratively—brought back the physical hunger that had been there earlier.

Gerard pulled Frank down, their mouths meeting in a rushed kiss. Gerard slipped a hand between the two of their bodies and ran his fingers over Frank’s dick. Frank added more force to the kiss, his tongue running over every part of Gerard’s mouth, until he felt Gerard wrap a first around his dick. Frank’s mouth fell loosely open while Gerard stroked him. Gerard leaned his head up and caught Frank’s bottom lip between his own lips, sucking on it while his tongue poked at his lip ring.

Frank’s eyes were clamped tight and he was just panting over Gerard’s mouth. When his lip slipped out from between Gerard’s, he opened his eyes and pulled Gerard’s hand off of him. Frank sat up over Gerard, and they stared at one another with half-lidded eyes and open mouths, panting and anticipating what would finally be happening.

Frank grabbed a condom and tore it open. He scooted down further so that he was situated over Gerard’s thighs and rolled the condom onto Gerard. Gerard’s head shot up to stare down at Frank.

“Wait, what are you—” Gerard began, but groaned at the feeling of Frank’s hands running over his dick while he rolled the condom down. “Why are you putting it on me?”

Realization suddenly hit Frank as he grabbed the lube. Gerard actually thought he’d be bottom again. It was Gerard; of course he would have. Frank sighed, but didn’t say anything.

Frank began slowly spreading the lube over Gerard’s dick, purposely slowing down the process and making it more pleasurable so that Gerard stopped questioning things. It worked. Gerard groaned and let his head fall back against the bed.

“This is nothing like the last time,” Frank said, his voice a hushed whisper, when he finished.

“What about you?” Gerard asked, reaching over for the lube again.

Frank shook his head and took the lube out of Gerard’s hand, throwing it over his shoulder. It landed somewhere on the floor. He lifted himself up over Gerard, knowing that if he gave Gerard any more time to think, he would object to the way things were happening. He felt Gerard’s slick tip touch his entrance.

“Frank, but you didn’t—you need—” Gerard tried forming words even as he was beginning to lose his mind to the pleasure that hadn’t even started.

Frank was bracing himself up using Gerard’s chest. He shut his eyes tight, gritted his teeth, and forced himself down, Gerard’s tip sliding into him. He swallowed loudly, breathing deeply through his nose.

“You can’t—not like— _oh my god,_ ” Gerard groaned loudly as he slid the rest of the way into Frank.

Frank began rocking slowly over Gerard even though Gerard being in him without preparation was stinging and causing his entire spine to ache.

“Frank, stop,” Gerard moaned breathlessly. “Just wait…wait until it feels…until it feels better.”

Frank shook his head even though Gerard couldn’t even see him. They both had their eyes shut tight, Frank in order to bear through the pain and Gerard in order to block out the pleasure. Gerard got Frank’s response through Frank continuing his movements over Gerard.

“Fucking stop, Frank,” Gerard groaned. “It doesn’t…ngh…have…oh, fuck…it doesn’t have to hurt you.”

“Yeah, it does,” Frank panted out, speeding up his movements.

“Oh my God,” Gerard groaned again. He grabbed Frank’s hips and held them still, his fingers digging into the soft skin there. “Motherfucker, fucking stop so we can both enjoy this!”

Frank’s eyes snapped open, shocked by the way Gerard was speaking. That was definitely a side to Gerard he had yet to see, and he had no complaints. It was a Gerard who communicated exactly what _he_ wanted and made sure he got it; even though it was in relation to what he wanted for Frank, it was still progress. So Frank stopped.

“Fine,” Frank sighed, holding entirely still.

“Is this just…” Gerard still had his eyes shut, because even if Frank wasn’t moving, fighting off the feeling of his ass clenched around his dick was difficult. “Are you just doing this to, like…make up for what happened? Is that all this is?”

“No,” Frank quickly shook his head. That was the last idea he wanted Gerard to get. “No, that’s not fucking it. That’s not all this is.”

“What does this mean to you? Does this mean something to you?” Gerard gritted out. It was the question he had been needing to ask, and even if it was the worst time to ask it, he needed to get it out.

“Anything you want it to be,” Frank sighed, leaning forward slightly as he felt himself begin to adjust. His hands slid up Gerard’s chest and onto his shoulders.

“You,” Gerard grunted, “I said you. Not me.”

The pain had subsided and now the sensitivity Frank felt was anything but pain.

“Everything,” he panted, bringing himself down so that his forehead met with Gerard’s. “It means fucking everything.”

With that, all forms of verbal communication were left aside, focusing entirely on communicating to each other physically. They kissed slowly, no coordination in the way their tongues moved together and their breaths hit each other’s mouths. Frank started rocking back and forth over Gerard again, this time Gerard’s hands aiding him in his movements. The kiss stopped, but their pants and small groans still met each other in between their open mouths.

Frank pushed himself up, using Gerard’s shoulders for support. He sped up his movements, his knees digging into the bed as he roughly rocked his ass over Gerard.

“Oh fuck,” Gerard moaned. “Fucking faster, oh God…Just-ah-fuck…”

Gerard’s words were nothing but a rambled mess that came spilling out of his mouth along with long and low moans. Frank released Gerard’s shoulders and sat himself up completely, bracing one foot against the mattress as he began moving himself up and down.

“Yes,” Gerard panted. “Fuck…fuck yes, like that.”

Frank nodded, leaning back slightly and pressing one hand against Gerard’s thigh for support, lifting himself higher each time, so that he could slam hard into Gerard’s lap. Each time he did that, Gerard let out a loud moan that was a borderline shout. Gerard’s hands were as frantic as his words, gripping onto the sheets below him, gripping onto Frank’s hips, or gripping onto nothing at all.

Frank’s leg grew sore from holding himself up, so he set it down, holding himself up with his knees again, and leaning forward slightly. He pressed his hands to Gerard’s chest this time, heaving himself up and down again. His moves were not as long and hard as they were before, but short and precise.

“Oh, fuck,” Frank finally moaned when he felt Gerard’s dick just barely brush against his prostrate. “Fucking—” Frank shut his eyes and focused on angling himself properly, until he felt t it again on a string of quick thrusts. “Fu-Oh fuck, yeah…”

“Harder,” Gerard moaned in response, the part of his mind that was still in order was glad to hear Frank making noise. Frank complied immediately, adding more vigor to the way he came down on Gerard. “Shit, Frank,” Gerard grunted Frank’s name almost indecipherably when he felt Frank clench tightly around him. Frank was moaning loudly over him, voicing no distinguishable words, other than “God” or “fuck.” He could feel Gerard continuously brushing against his prostrate, not hitting it dead on, like a tease that was bringing him slowly close to the edge.

“Fuck,” Frank gasped, surging forward, biting onto Gerard’s neck as he began rocking on top of Gerard again. He gripped onto Gerard’s arms. “I’m gonna fucking come.”

Gerard nodded and reached between them, grabbing Frank’s hard dick. He only got about two quick strokes before he heard Frank moan a loud, “Gerard,” into his ear and he could feel Frank’s hips sporadically moving over him as his orgasm hit. Gerard continued slowly stroking Frank through the rest of his orgasm, feeling his come hit both their chests. Frank’s fingers tightened against Gerard’s arms just before loosening. He sighed against Gerard’s neck, taking deep breaths, and still moving his hips, this time more rhythmically. Frank lifted his face up to kiss Gerard sloppily before sitting up all the way, and going back to his quick pace of moving up and down, so that Gerard could experience the same pleasure he just felt.

Frank was wrapped even tighter around Gerard now that he had come, and Gerard moved his hips up off the bed to meet with Frank’s, feeling his climax growing near. His groin felt hot and like it was just holding out on him for a little longer so that it could hit him hard. When it finally did, it was exactly that.

“Aaah, fuck,” he gasped, gripping Frank’s wrists to hold him still. His eyes shut tight and his hips twitched up slightly as his orgasm hit him in slow waves. Frank just barely rocked over Gerard, drawing out the pleasures as his orgasm surged through him.

“Oh my God,” Gerard sighed, his entire body still tingling even after the orgasm was over. Frank slowly pulled off of Gerard and collapsed next to him, both of them panting in the best ways of exhaustion. “Fuck.”

All Frank could do was nod in agreement to the somewhat verbal acknowledgement that that was amazing.

Gerard sat up slightly and rolled his condom off, tying it off. He looked around the room, but didn’t see a trashcan anywhere.

“I’ll, uh, go throw this away,” Gerard said, scooting off the bed and going to the bathroom. He threw the used condom in the trash and took a quick glance at himself in the mirror, even though it was mostly dark and he couldn’t see much. He was still flushed, hair a mess, and skin glistening with sweat. 

He was almost scared to go back. What if it just took Frank longer than usual to come to his senses and now that they were done, he would want to forget it all? He was scared that it would be just another mistake to Frank.

Taking a deep breath, he walked back into the bedroom. Frank had moved so that his head was actually on the pillows and he was laying in bed properly. He had also pulled the Star Wars blanket over himself, which brought a smile to Gerard’s face, calming his nerves.

Gerard searched around the dimly lit room for his boxers, finding them just over the edge of the bed. He bent over and slipped them on.

“Could you grab mine, too?” Frank asked. Gerard didn’t notice that he was facing him, his face just barely poking out atop the blanket.

Gerard nodded, bending over to pick up Frank’s and handing them to him.

“Thanks,” Frank said, sitting up beneath the blanket. Keeping the blanket on most of his body, he got his boxers on, and then scooted over on the bed, obviously making room for Gerard.

All of Gerard’s nerves were eliminated. He got into bed with a smile on his face. Frank adjusted the blanket so that it was over the two of them and he just lay next to Gerard, on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Gerard did the same, thinking that Frank was probably not keen on cuddling.

“I could probably go again cause that was so fucking good,” Gerard said, breaking the silence.

Frank rolled his head to the side to look at Gerard, and Gerard was more than ecstatic to see a smile on his face.

“And you said you weren’t a porn star,” Frank rolled his eyes playfully.

“After that, I think we’re both qualified,” Gerard shrugged.

“Not me,” Frank shook his head. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

Gerard was more than surprised when Frank rolled onto his side and scooted closer to him. He draped an arm over Gerard’s chest and rested his head against Gerard’s shoulder.

“Good night,” Frank said, leaning up to press a kiss to Gerard’s jaw, and then letting his head fall back against Gerard’s shoulder.

“Good night,” Gerard responded, the smile on his face now a huge grin. He held a hand over Frank’s arm, and they fell asleep that way.

That moment—that entire night—had been entirely different than anything physical that Gerard and Frank had experienced together. It had been nothing like the night Gerard gave Frank a blowjob; it had been nothing like their drunken exchanges; it most definitely had been nothing like the night Frank raped Gerard. That night was genuine from both men, not hazed by the cover of alcohol or confused emotions. That night wasn’t fleeting like every other moment before. The moment they were in felt like it would actually last.


	40. Chapter 39: So Long

As soon as Frank woke up, he felt a bare arm draped over his bare stomach and he jolted up into a sitting position, his eyes still heavy with sleep. He glanced around frantically and grew even more confused when he saw that he was in his room. He then looked beside him and saw that he wasn’t alone. He was with Gerard.

Frank smiled. Frank had grown so used to waking up alone that he was thrown off by finding someone else in his bed. Knowing it was Gerard, though, made it okay. He lay back down and when he settled on his side to face Gerard, he saw that Gerard was already awake. There was a worried expression on Gerard’s face, his eyebrows close together and his bottom lip held tightly between his teeth.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up.

“You’re not…you got up all of a sudden,” Gerard said, his voice just as hoarse. “I thought you, uh, regretted last night or something.”

“No,” Frank sighed, scooting closer to Gerard and pulling the blanket higher so that it covered their bare and cold shoulders. Frank had pushed Gerard away so many times that Gerard was now constantly waiting for him to do it again. It killed Frank to know that he had settled that kind of paranoia into Gerard’s mind. “No, I don’t regret it. It just hadn’t processed in my head that it happened so I freaked out when I felt someone’s arm on me.”

“Sorry,” Gerard smiled.

Frank shook his head and placed a hand on Gerard’s upper arm, using it as leverage to pull himself even closer. He settled his forehead against the front of Gerard’s neck and slid his hand under Gerard’s arm, and around his back, holding him close.

“I am,” Frank sighed, his hot breath washing over Gerard’s chest.

“For what?” Gerard asked, bringing his hand up to mindlessly fiddle with strands of Frank’s hair.

“For making you think I’m gonna regret it,” Frank shrugged. “For being an ass and always walking away from you. For everything. Fuck, what am I not sorry for is probably easier to answer…the list would be shorter.”

“I already know you’re sorry,” Gerard said. “Even when you don’t say it, I know you are. I guess that’s why I forgive you.”

Frank didn’t say anything in response. He distracted himself with his hand that was running up and down Gerard’s back, enjoying the feel of Gerard’s bare skin against the palm of his hand. Gerard reciprocated by gently running his fingers through Frank’s hair, rubbing at his scalp. Frank enjoyed that a lot, more than he thought he would. It actually made his hand still just so he could lay there and enjoy the relaxation it gave him.

“What time is it?” Frank asked.

“Dunno,” Gerard shrugged. “But it looks like the sun is barely coming up.”

“I like this,” Frank said, his arm tightening around Gerard to demonstrate exactly what it was he was referring to—the closeness. “I like this a lot, but I don’t know what this is yet.”

“Me either,” Gerard sighed.

“I just—” Frank was interrupted by a yawn. Gerard’s fingers that were still gently massaging his skull were proving to be sleep-inducing. “Fuck, that feels really good. I wanna sleep again.”

“Sleep,” Gerard smiled. “We can talk later, I’m still fucking sleepy, too. Let’s enjoy this now, if you want, and we can just…we’ll figure out what it is and what to do with it when we’re more awake.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded, his eyes already shut and his mind already halfway gone.

Gerard continued brushing at Frank’s scalp until he fell asleep as well, and his fingers halted, interwoven between strands of Frank’s hair.

Things were different. Everything about them was different. Not only were they physically close to each other, and comfortably sharing the warmth of one bed and one blanket and one another’s personal space, but they themselves were different, too. Frank was talking openly and comfortably, which Gerard happily noted. He didn’t try and wiggle his way out of conversation; he initiated it. He made it clear what he wanted instead of hiding everything about himself behind some sort of cover. And most importantly, he wanted to figure things out. He didn’t want to walk away from something just because it seemed messy, difficult, and dangerous; he wanted to talk about it and figure out exactly how it would be carried out.

Gerard was different, too. He didn’t tell Frank not to be sorry; he accepted the fact that Frank had wronged him and that he was now sorry about it. He didn’t overthink something as simple as telling Frank that he was too tired to talk; typically, he would have feared ruining his chances of actually talking to Frank by postponing it, but he wasn’t that fearful anymore. He would make sure they talked, even if Frank didn’t want to talk later; Gerard would make it happen, because Gerard was different and he would get what he wanted.

**

Gerard could have probably slept through the entire day from how comfortable he was, but a muffled buzzing noise woke him up. The first thing he noticed was that Frank was no longer in bed with him. He scrubbed at his eyes and sat up, searching for the noise of the buzzing. In his still sleepy state, it took him longer than usual to figure out that the buzzing was coming from the pocket of his pants. He stood next to the bed, looking around the room for a few long seconds before he finally bent over and pulled his phone out of the front pocket. He didn’t even check who it was calling.

“Hello?” he answered in a sleepy voice that made him sound like he was getting a cold.

“Gerard!” Mikey yelled into Gerard’s ear, sounding far more awake than Gerard did. “Where the fuck are you? Oh my God!”

Gerard groaned in reply, his index finger rubbing at his eye, trying to rid himself of sleepiness.

“Gerard,” Mikey spoke calmly this time. “It’s past noon. You didn’t come home last night. I’ve been calling you. I had to make another fucking excuse at work. God, where are you? Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Gerard sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m good. Fuck, sorry about work.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Mikey said. “It’s your ass that’s gonna get fired if you keep bailing. Anyways, where are you?”

“I’m, uh…” Gerard paused and looked up at the room he was in. He was at Frank’s house and he knew Mikey would not be okay with that. Lying to Mikey was the equivalent of lying to his mother: the truth always seemed to reveal itself to them. Gerard couldn’t lie to him.

The sun was peeking through the blinds, illuminating the floor the was littered in the clothes Gerard and Frank had shed the night before. It brought a warm feeling to the pit of his stomach and a smile to his face. He took a deep breath and breathed out, “I’m at Frank’s.”

“What?” Mikey asked immediately.

Gerard barely sighed a, “Yeah,” before Mikey went off: “Why are you there? Why did you stay the night there? What is it with you and him? You wouldn’t even tell me what happened and I don’t even know if I should be freaking out because I don’t know what the fuck happened. Fuck, Gerard.”

“Mikey, calm down,” Gerard said. “It’s all fine. Me and him…we just needed to work some things out.”

There was a long moment of silence, until Mikey let out a defeated sigh that had Gerard smiling again. He could always tell when Mikey was about to give up.

“You’re good?” Mikey asked. “You swear?”

“Yes,” Gerard said confidently. “I’m good, I swear.”

“Don’t lie to me like you would with Blake,” Mikey said. “I don’t wanna see that happen again right under my fucking nose without me realizing it.”

Gerard bit at the inside of his lip, swallowing down the guilt-ridden lump in his throat. The only reason Mikey never knew how bad things were with Blake was because Gerard was just really good at hiding it. It was no one else’s fault but his. Because of him lying, Mikey was always walking around with a weight of guilt on his back. Gerard wouldn’t lie to him again. He didn’t want him to have any more of that guilt.

“I’m not gonna hide shit from you anymore, alright?” Gerard said, hoping to reassure him. “I know I didn’t tell you what happened with Frank, but…but just trust me, ok? I’m not comfortable talking about, uh, about all that happened, but I’ll be honest about everything else, alright? You don’t need to worry.”

“Alright,” Mikey sighed. “Alright, ok, fine. Just, no more ditching work, fucker. Come home tonight.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, smiling. “Thanks, Mikes. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Gerard hung up and left the phone on the bed. He put his pants on and was going to put his work clothes back on, but opted out for one of Frank’s hoodies that was tossed on the floor and looking a lot more comfortable than his dress shirt. He slipped it on and pulled the hood over his messy hair. He wasn’t even sure if Frank was home; maybe he had gone to work. He was nervous to walk out to the living room either way. He took his phone from the bed and put it in the front pocket of the hoodie. Biting at his thumbnail, Gerard hesitantly walked out of the room. He stopped at the living’s room entrance when he spotted Frank, still home and not at work.

Frank was sitting against the front of the TV cabinet. He had his head back and his eyes shut, his arms resting lazily over his guitar that was in his lap. He wore a hoodie that looked like it had been through hell and back—a grey color that had obviously once been black, accompanied by patches of discoloration due to being improperly washed with bleach. He had on the sweat pants that he had been wearing the night before. His hair was disheveled, every strand going in its own direction. Only the strands around his face seemed to sit properly, his fringe smoothly swaying towards the right, and the strands over his ears curling perfectly around his jaw. The image had Gerard entirely entranced.

Gerard would have thought Frank was asleep except that his fingers were drumming rhythmically over the surface of the guitar. When Gerard listened carefully, resting his head against the wall and stilling his breaths so that he could hear clearly, he could hear Frank humming softly. It wasn’t a melody he recognized, but it still made him smile.

After about a minute, Frank finally opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, before he caught something in his peripheral vision. He brought his head down and his eyes met with Gerard’s. They both simply stared at each other for a few seconds, wondering what the other was thinking at that moment. Gerard was still leaning against the wall, his shoulder and head pressed against it, while the rest of his body was angled away from it.

“Morning,” Frank said, breaking the silence. He let his head fall back again, but still kept his eyes on Gerard.

“Morning,” Gerard replied, standing himself up straight.

“How long you been standing there?” Frank asked.

“Not long,” Gerard shrugged.

“You can sit,” Frank offered.

“Thanks,” Gerard accepted.

Everything felt so robotic, unnatural, and…fucking awkward. From the way they spoke, to the tones they used, and even to the way Gerard moved away from the wall, and stood in the middle of the living room, contemplating where to sit, until he settled for the sofa that was far from Frank. He didn’t know what the awkwardness had meant so it had scared him into staying far away.

Frank obviously noticed the distance that Gerard chose to keep, but he couldn’t blame him. They were both being unbearably weird around each other.

“Uh…” Frank broke the silence again. That was not usually his job. Things were different, though. He slid the guitar off his lap and let it rest against the side of the TV cabinet, where it usually sat. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” Gerard answered. He couldn’t believe Frank was trying to strike up conversation. Even more so, he couldn’t believe that was the conversation starter that he had chosen. He looked down at his lap so he could hide his smile.

“What?” Frank asked. He’d seen the smile before Gerard could hide it. Gerard’s shoulders shook slightly with what was obviously a silent laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re being so fucking awkward,” Gerard laughed, looking up to show his laughing face since there was no point in hiding it.

“Yeah,” Frank chuckled softly. He scratched the back of his neck. “Can we…uh, stop that?”

“Yeah,” Gerard laughed, feeling relieved. The awkwardness was just a case of not knowing how to act around each other and not a sign of any sort of regret or second guessing the events that had taken place the night before.

“You can, uh, come sit here,” Frank said, bringing his knees up to his chest so that there was room for Gerard next to him.

“You’re still being awkward,” Gerard noted.

Frank threw his head back and groaned, frustrated. He just didn’t know how exactly to act around Gerard, considering that there was still so much left unsaid between them. They’d gotten rid of the physical barrier. The emotional barrier remained.

“Get your ass over here and sit next to me, asshole,” Frank muttered, staring up at the ceiling. He dropped his head back down and look at Gerard with a smile on his face. “Better?”

“Way better,” Gerard nodded, smiling right back at him. He stood up off the sofa and crossed the living room. He plopped down on the ground, holding his knees up like Frank, and scooting close so that their shoulders and arms were touching.

Frank picked up a mug that was sitting next to him, the coffee in it still hot enough so that it was drinkable.

“Coffee?” Frank offered, holding the cup out to Gerard.

“Hell yeah,” Gerard nodded, taking the cup from Frank. He smiled as he looked down at the cup in his hands. When Frank and Gerard had just met, Frank refused to even drink out of a cup of coffee that Gerard had offered him, and now he was the one offering. They'd shared drinks before, but something about the gesture felt so much more meaningful.

“What?” Frank asked, noticing Gerard’s smile. It was always easy for Frank to notice because it never failed to put him at ease when he saw Gerard’s face light up with a genuine smile.

“Nothing,” Gerard said, the smile still on his face and carrying through his voice. He brought the mug up to his lips and took a few big gulps of the strong coffee. He handed the coffee back to Frank, who also took a few gulps out of it, once again making Gerard smile. After having almost nothing with Frank for so long, having the miniscule things like sharing a cup of coffee were more than enough to give him a happy thrill.

“I don’t know what this is,” Frank said, the side of his head landing gently on Gerard’s shoulder.

“Yeah, you said that earlier,” Gerard nodded. “Any revelations come to you while sleeping?”

“No,” Frank said, smiling slightly. “I wish, though. That would be so much easier than thinking.”

“I know,” Gerard sighed, leaning his cheek against the top of Frank’s head.

They sat there in silence, leaning against each other, lost in thought. Eventually, Gerard’s hand found its way to Frank’s which was sitting in Frank’s lap. He held it there, occupying himself with the way his fingers felt between Frank’s, the way their palms met, the way Frank’s grip tightened ever so gently every few seconds. Gerard was starting to wonder if things would actually last, so he embraced every single detail of that moment so that he could always remember it.

“I’m not ready for this,” Frank said suddenly, his fingers tightening around Gerard’s hand, contradicting what his words were communicating. “I’m not ready for this to be a thing. I can’t handle it yet. I don’t know what to do with it or…how to…I don’t know, maintain it. You…you’re not ready either.”

“Frank—” Gerard was about to interrupt.

“I know,” Frank cut him off, already knowing what Gerard would say to him. “I know, I can’t decide that for you. But I can tell you that you’re not fucking ready to deal with _me._ I don’t even know how the fuck to deal with myself. This, whatever this is, is like, I don’t know, some sort of post-awesome-night high. It was amazing so everything feels amazing. But…But I still have a lot to figure out and so do you.”

“I’ve figured out everything, Frank,” Gerard sighed. He didn’t want to hear what Frank was saying because it was beginning to sound a lot like his hopes being crushed. “I’ve been through enough—you know what I’ve been through—to know what I want.”

“I know,” Frank nodded, releasing Gerard’s hand.

Gerard’s fingers twitched slightly as they feared being released, but Frank simply rested his hand over it, running his fingers over the top of Gerard’s. Gerard relaxed. Frank wasn’t letting go yet.

“You know what you want,” Frank continued, “and what you need. You know what you need to about yourself, but not about me. When it comes to me…you want this, but you don’t actually know…you don’t know anything about me.”

Gerard hummed in agreement. That part was entirely true. He’d learned so much about himself through his experiences, and gained some strength, yet he’d learned nothing about Frank because Frank did his all to keep that from happening. They fell into silence again, Frank taking Gerard’s hand between both of his and just holding it there.

“So, will you tell me?” Gerard asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Frank answered right away. Nervousness definitely coated his answer, but hesitation didn’t. Gerard actually lifted his head out of shock and looked down at Frank, who was still leaning against him and holding his hand.

“Really?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Frank said again. “Wait here.”

With that, he released Gerard’s hand and sat up. Frank took slow and deep breaths as he walked to his bedroom. There was no going back. He’d told Gerard that he’d be open with him and he wasn’t breaking any more promises to Gerard. He wasn’t fueling anymore of the doubt, apprehension, and paranoia that Gerard felt because of him. He’d stay true to his word, no matter how sick to his stomach he felt at the thought of exposing himself.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed almost inaudibly. He dropped to his knees beside his bed and peered under it. What he was looking for wasn’t too far; he’d pulled it out every once in a while, so it was always within reach. His hand came out with an old and tattered notebook that looked about ready to fall to pieces. The nausea grew stronger as he stared down at the notebook in his hands. All of Frank could be found in that notebook and he was about to reveal the core of it to Gerard. He was about to expose himself entirely, purposely allow himself to be vulnerable, in front of the one person who had managed to repeatedly weaken Frank’s strong shelter. He gulped over and over again, the nausea becoming almost too much to handle. He shut his eyes, breathing through the anxiety that had established itself at the pit of his stomach. This wasn’t about him only, though. He knew that. This was also what Gerard needed, and he was doing it for Gerard more than for himself. He could live without revealing himself; Gerard couldn’t.

It was for Gerard. Gerard deserved it. And above all, Frank trusted him.

Frank took another deep breath, hoping the nausea would slowly fade, and stood up, the beat-up notebook in his hand. He walked back into the living room, carrying himself with confidence so that Gerard wouldn’t see the inherent desire that Frank had to run away.

Gerard had gotten more comfortable, sitting with his legs crossed, his hands around his ankles, holding himself upright. He smiled at Frank when he saw him, and Frank smiled back. Both of them smiled to hide the uneasiness they felt and it was obvious. Frank sank to his knees, right across from Gerard, and did what he needed to do to calm himself. He grabbed Gerard by the front of the hoodie he was wearing, and pulled him close, their lips colliding, ready for each other. It was a simple kiss, and a short one. Their lips met, tense at first, and slowly relaxed, pecking at each other innocently, simply needing the sensations of lip-to-lip contact to calm their nerves. Frank pressed one last, strong kiss to Gerard’s lips, before pulling away.

They both sighed as Frank sat back, content and calm.

“There’s a lot,” Frank said, speaking right away before he chickened out. “So start here.” Frank looked down to the notebook he was holding, gently flipping the pages open to find what he was looking for. Gerard watched him carefully, noting page after page covered in scribbles of words. Frank’s hands finally stopped at a page that seemed a lot cleaner than the rest, having only a few messy lines of writing. “Start here,” Frank repeated, turning the notebook around and handing it to Gerard. “I wrote it when I was sixteen.”

Gerard carefully took the notebook, disbelief coursing through him. Frank was opening up. Frank was finally allowing Gerard in. Gerard forgot about the fact that he needed this for a sense of closure. Suddenly, all he cared about was how this would benefit Frank. Gerard wanted to say or do something that would comfort Frank, but then figured that the best way to make this easier for him would be to keep it from dragging on, so he got straight to reading the words that were scribbled messily onto the page before him.

“Your life will never be the same  
On your mother’s eyes, say a prayer, say a prayer  
Too much, too late, or just not enough of this  
Pain in my heart for your dying wish  
But nobody cares if you’re losing yourself  
Am I losing myself??  
Nobody knows all the trouble I’ve seen

To your room  
What they ask of you  
He makes me want to say, “So long…”  
Well I don’t remember…  
Why remember…  
Don’t wanna fucking remember…  
You.

Life is but a dream for the dead  
And well I, I’m going down by myself.”


	41. Chapter 40: Flashback Part 1

_  
“Hey, fuck ‘em all, alright?” a dark-haired sixteen year old panted out, bent over in an alleyway not too far from his high school. His companion stood a few inches from him, bent over and panting in the same fashion. They had sprinted away from their school, their weak bodies—weakened by the weather, as well as the few punches they’d received—barely able to handle the long run. Years of PE had obviously not paid off._

_“Thanks,” the dark-haired boy’s companion said, standing up now that he had regained his breath. He held a hand up to his temple, which was throbbing from its contact with a fist. The fingerless white glove on his hand stood out against the ashy brown color of his hair. “You saved my ass back there.”_

_“Fucking hate those guys,” the dark-haired boy muttered, standing up straight as well. He leaned casually against the wall behind him, and then gradually slid down so that he was sitting on his ass. He was tired and various spots on his entire body were beginning to throb from the blows they’d received. “All that bull shit they said, leave it in their asses and outta your head.”_

_“Thanks,” the light-haired boy smiled. “I don’t even think I know you much. I mean I have you in some classes, but…”_

_“Yeah, well,” the dark-haired boy shrugged, letting his head fall back and shutting his eyes. “I shouldn’t have to know you to save your ass, you know? Fucking common courtesy or whatever it’s called.” He waved his hand dismissively._

_“Even my so-called friends wouldn’t help me like you did,” the light-haired boy said._

_“You need new friends, then,” the dark-haired boy said simply, finally forcing himself off the ground. He dusted off the back of his jeans, and turned to face his companion. “I gotta get goin’. My mom’s gonna fucking pop a vein. I’ll see you around.”_

_“Clint,” the light-haired boy said._

_“Huh?”_

_“Uh, Clint, my name’s Clint,” the light-haired boy shrugged. “Well, Clinton, but Clint for short.”_

_“Frank,” the dark-haired boy smiled. “Franklin, when my mom’s pissed, but my birth certificate just says Frank…so, Frank.”_

_“Thanks again, Frank,” Clint smiled._

_“It’s whatever,” Frank shrugged. He bent down to pick up his backpack that he’d dropped earlier in a haste to get the weight off his back. “You know, anyone ever tell you your name sounds a lot like—”_

_“Clit,” Clint interrupted, a smile already playing on his face._

_Frank paused, halfway to adjusting the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, before he burst out laughing. It wasn’t as loud and drawn out as his laugh usually was, because he was exhausted and it just took way too much effort._

_“You got it bad,” Frank said as his laugh died down. He finished adjusting his backpack and started walking towards the opening of the alleyway, towards the sidewalk. Clint walked with him._

_When they got to the sidewalk, they casually parted ways, their houses in different directions, making silent promises to make a friendship out of that encounter._

_Frank Iero was sixteen years old. He wasn’t exactly the most popular kid at his school, but he wasn’t the loser of the school, either. He had a fairly “good standing,” which just meant that he got spared by the students who made their own high school experience bearable by beating on others. Frank was pretty sure that the only reason he was spared was because he had proved on many occasions that he would put up a fight, and a good one at that._

_Frank would admit that he didn’t interfere often. If it had nothing to do with him, he would stay out of it. But some things just struck a nerve in Frank that made interference the only option. Clint was one of those examples. Frank saw three guys ganging up on Clint, and the thing that caught Frank’s attention was their insults about Clint being gay. Frank hadn’t known Clint that well; he knew enough about to him to know that Clint was openly gay, and seeing him being victimized over being honest about who he was infuriated Frank, so he stepped in. Two against three wasn’t the most proportioned battle. Frank and Clint ended up taking a few punches and running as fast as they could, and away from those three guys._

_Frank knew why he’d stuck up for Clint. He knew that the reason the “gay” thing struck a nerve was because Frank, himself, was gay. It was something he was entirely aware of and accepted about himself. He hadn’t made it “public” or “official” to anyone outside himself; he knew he accepted himself, but not a lot of people would. So he just kept it to a secret so he could blend in. Seeing someone like Clint, who he admired for having the ability to be honest about his sexuality, drove Frank into a desire to protect. And he did._

_That was on a Friday. Frank eagerly awaited for the weekend to be over—he never thought that would happen—just so that Monday would come and he could get to know Clint a little more. Frank hadn’t had any friends he could see himself getting close to; he mostly had casual acquaintances that he kept around him just so that he wasn’t alone. Clint seemed like an alright guy. Frank could see the two of them becoming friends. It never happened, though._

_When Monday arrived, Frank didn’t see Clint anywhere, even in the classes that they shared. He didn’t think anything of it, blaming Clint’s absence to the weather and the sickness that went with it. Frank waited around the back of the school for a few minutes. That was where he’d seen Clint being attacked by those guys, so he thought maybe they were up to something again. There was no one there, and with hopes that he would see Clint in a day or two, Frank headed home._

_Just hours after he was home, he was sitting in his bedroom, flipping through a guitar magazine, when his father barged into his room. It all seemed like an unrealistic blur to Frank. It was like one of those nightmares that came just at the brink of sleep, so that when he woke up, the details were not nearly as clear as the fear. This time, though, he never woke up. His father yelled at him to go to the door, refused to answer any of Frank’s questions, and practically carried him out to the door. Frank’s mother stood near the door, her face blank of all emotion, and standing outside was a cop. Words may have been exchanged, Frank couldn’t be sure. Somewhere in there must have been the explanation as to why he was being taken, though an explanation didn’t matter since he was absolutely sure he didn’t do anything. All he knew was that he was taken by the policeman then, without so much as a word of defense from his parents._

_It was later revealed to Frank why he was being taken. Apparently, Clint was beaten savagely, and nearly killed. When Frank heard this, his anger flared and he thought the guys had gotten Clint and now Frank needed to testify or something. The reality was a lot harder to swallow. Frank had been accused of being the one to beat Clint. He was interrogated, which he saw absolutely no point in, because he could see in every single person’s eyes that they believed he was guilty. Frank couldn’t even begin to understand why they would accuse him. He hardly knew Clint, and in the short time that he did, he had been the one helping him. Frank tried to make that clear, but no one would listen to him. He was released back into the custody of his parents, until he had to appear in court._

_Frank’s own parents didn’t believe him._

_“I didn’t fucking do it!” Frank yelled, standing at the door of his room. Both his mom and dad stood across from him. His father looked stern, and his mother looked broken. “How can you guys not believe me?!”_

_“Language,” his father warned. “You’re already in deep shit, don’t make this worse.”_

_“I shouldn’t be deep in anything!” Frank almost cried, having to steady his voice._

_“The boy,” his mother spoke, her voice cracking more obviously than his. “The boy said you did it. Why would he lie?”_

_“What?” Frank gaped. “Clint said I beat him?”_

_“Yes,” Frank’s father nodded. “Why would he say that? Hm?”_

_“I don’t know,” Frank sighed, feeling absolutely drained by the thought. He had helped Clint. He looked down and shook his head. “I don’t fucking know. But what the fuck does talking to me even matter? You and all the damn cops are convinced I’m guilty ‘cause Clint is speaking the fucking truth. So just go fucking ask him all your questions.”_

_Frank didn’t dare look up at his parents. He simply slammed the door shut and collapsed into his bed. He had never spoken to his parents that way before. All the respect and trust he felt for them, the people he was supposed to trust his own life with, was gone entirely. Everything hurt. The anger, the sadness, the confusion…all of it was painful._

_His days passed by in the same blur that Frank had been living in. He was deemed guilty because the beating had taken place after school and what he thought was a perfectly sound alibi of waiting behind the school to see if Clint was around made him look even guiltier._

_Clint never appeared in court because he was still hospitalized due to his injuries. Frank never got to see him. He wanted to see him so bad. He wanted to just have one minute to ask him_ why. _All Frank wanted to know was what he’d done to Clint to deserve his life being turned completely inside out. It never happened, though. He never saw him and not too many days after he was accused of beating Clint, Frank was off to a juvenile detention center._


	42. Chapter 41: Flashback Part 2

_Frank was settled into his cell. He hadn’t taken the time to allow his eyes to wander around the place that he’d be spending three months in. Too much misery was already present in his mind; he didn’t need to take in the miserable setting around him._

_There were two beds in the small rectangular room he was in, along with a toilet and a sink. There was a small, barred window way too high and small for Frank to see anything through. He lay in the hard bed that was bare, waiting for his sheets to be brought to him._

_He had been given a tour of the facility, as well as a detailed run down of rules, guidelines, and daily schedules. Everything felt entirely unreal._

_A staff member walked into the small cell and left Frank his sheets on the bed, before silently walking away. The staff member stood right outside of the cell, keeping an eye on Frank. Frank wanted to laugh in his face. He was not a criminal. He didn’t plan on escaping or committing any sort of crime. He wanted to get out of that place as soon as possible, not extend his stay._

_Being the law abiding juvenile that he needed to be, he got out of bed and fixed the thin sheets of his bed. They wouldn’t provide much comfort or warmth. Just as Frank was putting his flimsy pillow into its pillow case, he heard the shuffling of many feet. He glanced over to the opening of his cell, and could spot other inmates lining up outside of their own cells._

_Someone tall and broad, dawning the same blue jumpsuit as Frank, stood just outside of Frank’s cell, his back to him. In sync with all the other inmates, he turned around and entered his cell, the staff immediately shutting and locking every cell door._

_Frank’s cellmate offered him a small smile and headed over to his own bed, jumping into it and getting comfortable beneath the sheets. Frank stared for a second, expecting some sort of greeting, but then realized he wasn’t getting one, so he got into bed. He rolled onto his stomach, his back, his right and left side, trying to get comfortable. Nothing seemed to work. He let out a frustrated sigh and gave in to laying on his back, staring at the ceiling above him._

_“Hey,” a small whisper reached Frank’s ear in the frighteningly silent cell. Frank turned his head to the side and could barely make out the face of his cellmate. “Fucking guard will give me a time-out or some shit if they hear me talking, so I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”_

_“Uh, ok,” Frank said slowly, unsure why he needed to be told that._

_“We’re gonna be spending every day together and sleeping in the same damn cell,” his cellmate said, sensing the hesitation in Frank’s voice, “it’s easier if we’re friends.”_

_“Yeah,” Frank nodded, keeping his voice low. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could now see that his cellmate was on his side, facing Frank. His overgrown blond hair that Frank had noticed earlier was hanging over his face slightly. “My name’s Frank.”_

_“Mine’s Kevin,” his cellmate introduced himself. “I’ll catch you tomorrow then. Good night.”_

_“Night,” Frank responded, and they drifted back into the eerie silence._

_The next morning, Frank was woken up by a finger poking his shoulder. He groaned and rolled onto his side, avoiding whoever was waking him up. His back was aching him, and he could just feel that it was too early to be awake without knowing the time._

_“Wake up, lazy shit,” a voice said, now taking to shaking Frank’s shoulder._

_“Fuck off,” Frank groaned, giving in and turning to face the person bothering him. It was Kevin, kneeling in front of the bed and looking ten times more awake than Frank felt. “Why are you waking me up?”_

_“It’s half an hour before the guards do it,” Kevin said, shrugging. “They’re usually slacking around now and don’t give a shit if you talk or whatever.”_

_“We can do that later,” Frank mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “I wanna sleep, not talk.”_

_“Well, too bad,” Kevin said, smiling at him. “I gotta know if you’re cool before the day starts out.”_

_“If I’m cool?” Frank questioned, sitting up, and stretching his back. A whine left his throat at the painful comfort he felt when it popped. He slumped back down, slouching, as Kevin stood up and went back to his own bed._

_“Yeah,” Kevin shrugged, smiling. “You’re new. People will pick on you. I’ve been here for a while, so I can get people to fuck off. If you’re not cool, though, I couldn’t give a fuck.”_

_“Well, what if you’re not cool and I don’t want your ass defending me?” Frank countered, lightening up his tone with a smirk._

_“Alright, test me,” Kevin said. He lay on his back, keeping his eyes on Frank. The smile both inmates had on their faces maintained the playful tone of their conversation. “What makes me cool?”_

_“I’m not picky,” Frank shrugged. “As long as you’re not fucking annoying, I can deal. Oh, and decent taste in music would help, too.”_

_“Huh, sounds a lot like my standards,” Kevin laughed. “What’s decent music?”_

_“Name a band and I’ll tell you,” Frank said, actually sort of nervous. If Kevin had shit taste in music, it would be a shame because he seemed like an alright guy._

_Kevin kept his eyes on Frank for a few short seconds until he looked up at the ceiling and said, “The Descendents.”_

_Frank’s face immediately lit up with a grin._

_“I fucking approve,” Frank said. Kevin could hear the smile in his voice without actually looking at his face._

_“Lucky for you, I approve, too,” Kevin said. “My last roommate was a fucking shithead. He didn’t even listen to music. I mean, what the fuck? Who doesn’t listen to music?”_

_“So I’m cool then, huh?” Frank laughed._

_“After that guy, I had low fucking standards,” Kevin nodded. “Don’t feel too flattered.”_

_Kevin and Frank didn’t end up spending the entire day together. They had to have five hours of regular classwork as if they were still in school. Since Kevin was seventeen and a year older than Frank, he had different classes to attend. Halfway through the five hours, they were given an hour to be outside for physical activity. Frank was shoved as he walked, but forced himself to ignore it. He knew it was some sort of hazing thing, so he had to ignore it._

_When they made it outside, Frank breathed in the refreshing air. It had only been a few hours in the center, and he was already feeling completely suffocated. He wandered around. There wasn’t really anything he wanted to do other than walk and breathe some fresh air. The outdoor space was widely spread out. There was a place to play basketball, a section with workout equipment, and open fields where some inmates were running around, sweating energy out. Frank was wandering towards that section, when two guys suddenly rounded on him and stood in front of him._

_“Ignoring us, huh?” one of them asked. “Think you’re too good to say anything to us?”_

_“No,” Frank sighed, absolutely not in the mood for the same things he witnessed and sometimes dealt with in high school. He didn’t even bother looking up at them. “I just don’t wanna deal with bull shit, alright?”_

_“That’s not up to you,” one of them scoffed, and shoved Frank’s shoulder lightly. Frank finally looked up, anger and irritation in the glare he gave the two guys standing in front of him. They looked a bit too big to be in a juvenile detention center, wide shoulders, and thick facial hair over their upper lips and coating their jaws._

_“Just fucking—”_

_“Yo, Frank!” a voice called out, cutting Frank off short. Frank turned around and saw Kevin jogging towards them. He casually clapped a hand against Frank’s shoulder when he reached him and then turned to face the two “bullies” that were still staring at Frank. “Hey, guys, meet my new cellmate?”_

_“Oh he’s sharing with you, huh?” one of the guys asked._

_“Yeah,” Kevin nodded. “So back the fuck off, alright? There’s some other new guys, go fuck with them.”_

_“Alright,” the other guy spoke. “Whatever the fuck you say, Kev. Your charity cases, your choices.”_

_The two guys simply walked away, leaving as though they had never given Frank a few harsh words and shoves._

_“Charity case?” Frank questioned, shrugging his shoulder out from underneath Kevin’s hand. “I don’t need—”_

_“You really gonna believe those guys?” Kevin laughed. “They’re just trying to get to you. I don’t do charity, man. I fucking helped you out with them.”_

_“Yeah,” Frank sighed, “yeah, you’re right. Sorry. This place is just like high school.”_

_“Basically,” Kevin shrugged, nudging Frank’s elbow to walk with him towards the work-out area. “Don’t stand still for too long. The guards will be on your ass if you’re not doing something.” Frank nodded and followed Kevin’s lead. “Anyways, don’t worry about assholes like that. I got your back.”_

_And Kevin did. If anyone tried to give Frank a hard time, Kevin was up front and ready, getting them to leave Frank alone. Frank was beyond grateful because it made his stay a lot easier without dumb asses on his back. Kevin went as far as punching a couple guys who had tried to corner Frank. The guards caught Kevin, though, and he was forced to spend a day in an isolated cell. Frank felt like he owed Kevin the world for going that far for him._

_Not only was Kevin loyal and helpful in defending Frank, but they also shared many of the same interests and passions. Aside from liking many of the same bands, they even had a love for music beyond simply listening to it._

_“I really wanna start a fucking band,” Kevin randomly said. Kevin and Frank had developed a habit of waking up half an hour before the guards woke them up so they had the opportunity to talk freely. Frank always enjoyed talking to Kevin; he felt like it was the best way to start off his day._

_“Shit, that’s a fucking dream,” Frank sighed. He lay on his stomach, his hand hanging off the side of the bed, brushing the cold floor of the cell. “What do you play?”_

_“Myself,” Kevin smiled, rolling onto his side to face Frank. “I sing.”_

_“Actually good singing or one of those guys that thinks he’s good but sounds like shit?” Frank laughed._

_“Fuck you,” Kevin laughed right back. “I was the frontman of a band already before I came here. Fuckers probably already got a replacement, though.”_

_“We should start one in here,” Frank joked. “You sing, and I play guitar.”_

_“And drums and bass? I don’t think the knuckleheads here know how to play shit.”_

_“We’re in juvie,” Frank giggled softly. “We can’t be too fucking picky, a guitar and vocals will work.”_

_“And where’s your guitar, Mr. Not-Fuckin’-Picky?” Kevin raised his eyebrow._

_“Well, fuck,” Frank sighed. “There goes that dream.”_

_“Maybe once we get outta here,” Kevin shrugged. “I’m gonna start a band for sure.”_

_Frank lifted his gaze onto Kevin, who was now on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a determined look on his face. Frank smiled. He believed Kevin could make it happen. He had that goal-driven personality that would probably get him wherever he wanted to get._

_“What’d you do to get here for so long?” Frank asked randomly. “I mean, I don’t know how long you’ve been here, but it seems like awhile since so many of the guys listen to you.”_

_“An accident,” Kevin shrugged._

_“What kind of—”_

_“Shot a guy,” Kevin said simply, answering Frank’s question before he finished asking it._

_Frank gulped and a strangled and breathless, “what,” left his lips as his head jolted up off his pillow. He stared at Kevin’s blank face, which seemed entirely unfazed by this weighted revelation. His head dropped to the side and he caught Frank’s eyes._

_“Calm down,” Kevin spoke after a long moment of silence. “The ass hole came at me with a gun, I fought with him, and shot him instead. It was self-defense, but the court didn’t think so.”_

_“Really?” Frank breathed out._

_“Yeah, yeah, you don’t believe me just like every other fucking person,” Kevin muttered, rolling his eyes and looking back up to the ceiling._

_“No,” Frank quickly sought to explain. He’d been there before, standing innocently while everyone he trusted believed he was guilty. “No, I fucking get that. I don’t think you’re lying.”_

_“You get it?” Kevin questioned, turning his head to face Frank again._

_“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “Some guy got his ass kicked real bad, and even though I helped him before, he went and told everyone it was me. I mean, fuck, that’s not as bad as yours, but at least I get it when no one believes you.”_

_“I guess they just think we look amazing in these jumpsuits,” Kevin laughed, easily lightening up the mood. “Which we fucking do.”_

_“Hell yeah we do,” Frank agreed, easy settling into the much lighter tone._

_“So you really believe me, huh?” Kevin asked, a smile still on his face._

_“Yeah,” Frank nodded, “there’s no reason for you to lie to me anyways. I believe you.”_

_“Thanks, Frankie.”_

_Frank couldn’t help but smile at the endearing nickname, and that was when he began to realize how much he really cared for Kevin. That was only a week into his stay._

_Another week later, Frank found himself spilling his guts to Kevin. He told him the entire story of what happened with Clint, including the fact that he admired him, and how Clint had betrayed him for no reason at all. Kevin listened intently to every word Frank told him, and offered comforting jokes about how Clint would have been killed in juvie anyway, because he was too spineless to survive, unlike Frank._

_Kevin’s jokes always cheered Frank up, even when his parents came on the occasional visit to see him, leaving Frank in the worst possible mood. All it took from Kevin was a funny remark about anything at all, and Frank was smiling instantly._

_So when Kevin needed a favor from Frank, no matter how crazy it seemed, Frank would go out of his way to help him._

_“You want me to steal a fucking lighter and cigarettes, Kev?” Frank hissed during one of their early-morning talks. “How the fuck—”_

_“You’re small,” Kevin quickly reasoned with him. “If we distract the guys, you can sneak in and get ‘em.”_

_“From where?” Frank argued._

_“The kitchen. I’ve seen the worker take smoke breaks while we eat, so he has them I’m sure, and probably keeps them in the kitchen somewhere.”_

_“I could get caught,” Frank sighed. “Why do you even need cigarettes?”_

_“You won’t get caught,” Kevin shrugged, and added, “I owe a guy a favor.”_

_“I don’t wanna fucking—”_

_“One favor, man,” Kevin practically begged. “I’m asking for one favor, come on, I’ve done so much for you, and even landed my ass in isolation.”_

_Frank immediately grew guilty. Kevin had done so much for him and there was no denying it. It would have been so selfish of Frank to take all of those kind gestures that Kevin offered without being asked, and not give him anything in return._

_“Alright,” Frank nodded, “you’re right, yeah, I’ll do it.”_

_It was easier than Frank had originally thought. When they were gathered in the cafeteria, a “fight,” which two guys pretended to start, broke out, and the guards rushed to get things in order. As soon as they did, Frank was out of his chair and running towards the kitchen. No one noticed him. Even the guy that served lunch was too busy peering over the gathered guards and inmates to notice Frank walk right behind him and into the kitchen. It took some digging and frantic searching, but Frank finally found a lighter in the pocket of the worker’s jacket, along with a packet of cigarettes. With a nervous glance over his shoulder to make sure the coast was still clear, Frank was able to shove the cigarettes and lighter under his jumpsuit and into the waistband of his boxers. After adjusting himself, he casually strolled out of the kitchen, completely unnoticed, and joined the crowd. Kevin sent a questioning glance his way from across the crowd, and Frank replied with a smile and a nod, and had them both returned to him._

_The favors didn’t stop after that, though. Kevin was constantly having Frank sneak around, taking things from guards, or even being a distraction one or two times. Frank tried to say no sometimes, but was bombarded with guilt from Kevin about how he hadn’t been asked to do the things he did for Frank. Guilt was always the sure way to convince Frank to do anything, so he’d give in. On some nights, he was adamant about not doing something, and woke up the next morning too guilt-ridden so he told Kevin he changed his mind._

_Even though Frank hated the way Kevin would guilt him into doing things, he still cared about Kevin. He was still a great person to talk to, and the things he had done to make Frank’s stay at the center easier would not be forgotten._

_Frank had one more week to go. And Kevin only had two more days._

_“What are you gonna do when you leave?” Frank asked Kevin during their lunch period. They sat beside each other, as they always did, busy in their own conversation while everyone else chattered loudly around them. Frank’s food was forgotten in the midst of the conversation, while Kevin continued digging into his plate of mashed potatoes._

_“Well, I still gotta go to court again,” Kevin shrugged, licking his spoon clean. He gestured towards Frank’s neglected plate, and Frank nodded, scooting it towards him. “I’m turning eighteen so they’re gonna figure out what the fuck to do with me.”_

_“What are they gonna do, send you to jail?” Frank asked, genuinely concerned._

_“Nah,” Kevin laughed, “probably some bull shit community service. I’m gonna start on that band.”_

_Frank’s face lit up. He had this unspoken dream about actually being in that band Kevin had talked so much about. Frank was too embarrassed to tell Kevin about it, but his hopes had grown higher since he would be released from the center not long after Kevin._

_“How are you, uh, gonna start on that?” Frank asked, sounding a bit nervous; it went unnoticed by Kevin._

_“Already did,” Kevin grinned happily at Frank; it sent the butterflies in Frank’s stomach on a rampage. Before Frank could manage a squeaked out question, Kevin continued: “All these favors I’ve been fucking doing are to get me some hook ups when I get out of here.”_

_“Oh,” Frank sighed, deflated._

_“Some of these assholes have siblings or family members working inside the fucking music industry,” Kevin went on, still not catching on to any of Frank’s emotions. “A couple of them know some experienced guys who are even looking to start a band. I have a whole band already waiting for me when I get out. If they’re good, we take off.”_

_“That’s awesome,” Frank quickly faked a smile. “I’m glad all the favors paid off.”_

_“Hell yeah they did,” Kevin nodded proudly, setting his spoon down finally. He turned to face Frank. “Never fucking do a favor without expecting something in return. All that ‘out of the kindness of your heart’ bull shit, doesn’t get anything done.”_

_Frank felt as though he’d been punched straight in the stomach. It was one thing to expect to actually be in Kevin’s band, but it was another thing entirely to find out that Kevin hadn’t done what he did for Frank out of kindness or caring. Kevin had helped Frank because he needed favors from him, and he had easily gotten those favors right out of Frank._

_“Yeah,” Frank laughed dryly, “you’re totally right.”_

_“Of course I am,” Kevin laughed along._

_Frank acted as normal as he could around Kevin since they were his final days there. He wasn’t sure if Kevin could detect it or not, and at one point, he stopped caring anyways. He didn’t stop caring enough to stop trying to look normal, just enough to stop trying harder. On their final night, the night before Kevin left, Frank made a decision. He decided he would talk to Kevin when they woke up, and he would confess how hurt he was by what Kevin did. It wouldn’t do any harm since Kevin was leaving and Frank would never see him again. Frank went to sleep with his embarrassing little confession running around in his head._

_Frank’s body had grown accustom to naturally waking up a half an hour before wake-up call, so he knew it wasn’t the time to wake up when he felt someone clamping a firm hand over his mouth. As soon as his body tensed and he made to move, he heard someone whispering from above him._

_“Shhh, the guards will hear you.”_

_Frank’s eyes and senses woke up when he recognized that whisper. It was Kevin. Frank tried to thrash around on his bed and figure out was going on. Kevin already had him pinned down, laying above him, one hand over Frank’s mouth, and the other working Frank’s jumpsuit lower down his body._

_Kevin released a hand from Frank’s mouth for just a short moment as he had to work the jumpsuit off of Frank’s arms as well._

_“What the fuck?!” Frank hissed, not wanting any of the guards to walk in on what was going on. “What the fuck are you doing, Kev?!”_

_“Getting one last favor out of you before I leave this place,” Kevin chuckled quietly. Frank’s body was still writhing beneath him, but not strongly enough to stop Kevin from getting Frank’s jumpsuit rolled down to his thighs. “Go ahead, scream. By the time anyone gets here, I’ll be back in my bed and the guard won’t believe you. No one ever fucking does, do they?”_

_Frank’s breathing was shallow, barely scraping through his chest and not giving his lungs nearly enough oxygen. He could feel himself choking on strangled breaths that were coated with confusion, pain, and self-hatred for his blind and stupid trust._

_He knew Kevin was right. What was the point of screaming when it wouldn’t even get him anything? The guards would come, tell him to quiet down since there was obviously nothing happening, and then Kevin would get right back to it. Even if Kevin didn’t continue what he was trying to do, it wouldn’t eliminate the feeling of worthlessness that Frank felt and would feel. He was stupid. That was all he could tell himself. He deserved it for trusting someone when all they did was clearly take advantage of him._

_“There ya go,” Kevin laughed, inching the boxers off of a submissive Frank. “You know, I’ve been keeping an eye out for the guard that stays near our cell. Fucker always falls asleep when his shift is almost done, and then another guy replaces him around the time you and I wake up. So this should be good.”_

_All Frank could do was let out a whimper, and shut his eyes, praying for the events to go by as fast as they could. They seemed to drag on, however, each second and movement ticking by slowly to stretch on the pain._

_Kevin had one hand holding Frank’s wrists together above his head, and the other took its place over Frank’s mouth again. He was all but careful as he forced himself into Frank. Frank’s pained groan was muffled by Kevin’s hand. There was a burning unlike anything Frank had ever felt, stinging around his ass, and spreading its way up Frank’s entire spine. He could feel the scraping and tearing of tissue as Kevin moved in and out of him._

_Kevin moved his hands from Frank’s mouth and wrists, instead twisting one into Frank’s hair so that he could shove Frank’s face into his pillow, hoping to subdue the noise even more. The other hand seized a tight hold on Frank’s hip, aiding him in his thrusts._

_Frank could feel the pain everywhere now, in the forming bruises on his hip, all throughout his spine, on his scalp where the hair were being tugged with every tightening of Kevin’s fingers. There was a ringing in Frank’s ears, hot and loud, but not enough to drown out the sound of Kevin’s groans and moans. At one point, he bit down on Frank’s shoulder to drown them out. By that time, Frank was entirely gone, disconnected from the situation, awakened when he felt Kevin finish inside him. It stung even more, meeting with his torn-up insides. Frank gasped loudly, his head jerking back, when Kevin pulled out of him in one quick swipe._

_“Fuck,” Kevin sighed, satisfied. He hovered over Frank, whose head had gone back to the pillow. “Fuck that was good. You were so damn tight.”_

_Frank’s body was shivering and his breaths were shaky, sounding like they were the beginning of sobs just waiting to wretch out of his chest and never stop._

_“Oh come on, Frankie,” Kevin whispered, leaning his body down onto Frank so that his lips were right against Frank’s ear. “You know you liked it. You admired that gay guy, right? You had to be gay.”_

_The first sob escaped Frank’s throat as Kevin finally moved off of him. A mix of physical and emotional pain was too much for him to contain. He allowed the pillow to cover his mouth and keep it quiet. While Kevin simply got back into his own bed, Frank quickly pulled his jumpsuit back on, ignoring the blood that was surely there, as well as the pain that came with every movement. He wouldn’t allow another sob to escape, at least not when Kevin was around to witness it._

_Frank curled up into a ball and his spine ached with the position._

_“Why?” he asked, not bothering to keep his voice quiet. He could hear Kevin shifting in his own bed. “Was all this… All this time, were you using me? I was just to get what you wanted and now this?”_

_“Don’t take it personally, Frankie,” Kevin sighed, almost sounding apologetic. Almost. His next statement was mocking him, though, eliminating the apologetic tone he had just used. “You can’t trust anyone, especially not in fucking juvie.”_

_That was the last thing Kevin said to him, with a breathy chuckle. Frank lay in bed, trembling as he held his sobs in. His faith in finding someone worthy of his trust slipped out of him along with the tears that lost themselves in the fabric of his pillow._


	43. Chapter 42: Flashback Part 3

_Frank’s final days at the juvenile detention center were the beginning to a numbness that he would find hard to shake off. Frank’s ability to care about anything had vanished. Everything he ever cared for or invested himself into had turned back and skinned him of any hope before leaving his body to bleed its trust out._

_“Where’s Kevin now, huh?”_

_“He told us he was gonna fuck your ass like the pussy you are.”_

_“Fucking weak shit, can’t do shit for yourself.”_

_Those were only some of the taunts that Frank received once Kevin was gone. The same people that Kevin had protected Frank from were now taunting Frank and revealing even more of the person Kevin really was. They had all known exactly what Kevin was doing and that Frank was just a puppet in a show of achieving what Kevin needed._

_During showers, he faced the most assault. It wasn’t as physical as it could have been, considering that the guards were there monitoring them. Occasionally, one of the guys Kevin had talked to, would slide up to Frank and “accidentally” push Frank into the tiled wall without any of the guards noticing. Panic would jolt through Frank’s entire body whenever they did that, and he would wait for something more and worse to come next, but it never did. They would whisper a sly dig in his ear, like, “I’d fuck you, but you’re not as tight as when Kevin did,” into his ear before slipping away from Frank inconspicuously._

_He had gotten a new cell mate already. Neither of them tried to make any sort of conversation. His cell mate was new so he had no idea that Frank was known as “Kevin’s bitch” to most of the inmates. Frank was grateful for that much. He wasn’t sure how his cellmate hadn’t caught onto anything considering that Frank would quiver anytime anyone went near him. They all laughed at the way he couldn’t walk properly for a couple days, and how he would have to grit his teeth whenever he sat down or stood up. They were like wild animals, feasting on the fear and pain that Frank made so apparent. It didn’t take him long to realize that that was what fueled them, so he decided to make a change to it. He only had a week and a half left in the center when he decided to eliminate the visibility of his vulnerability._

_He woke up one morning, his body hardly sore, only aching slightly. With the decision he had spent the night making, his whole being was on edge, ready to snap at anything that triggered his anger. He was sick and tired of it. Weakness was not who he was._

_They were lining up to attend their daily lessons when one guy shoved Frank aside, muttering a, “Move, bitch,” as he passed. Frank maintained himself, tensing his jaw and keeping his head down. Another guy followed, shoving him in the same passion, and chuckling out a whispered, “You’d be so easy to fuck.”_

_Frank snapped._

_“Fuck you!” Frank yelled, grabbing the guy’s arms before he fully passed him. Frank pulled the guy towards him, got a hold of the back of his jumpsuit, and then shoved him face-first into the wall beside him. The guy let out a loud groan as the side of his face met with the hard wall. Frank held him there, holding both his arms behind his back with one hand, and using his other arm to keep the guy’s face pinned to the wall._

_“Tell me one more fucking time how easy I am,” Frank hissed, pressing his arm into the guy’s face, scraping it against the wall. “One more fucking time.”_

_Right then, the guards pushed through the crowd of inmates until they reached Frank, peeling him off the guy, and then helping the guy off the wall. Frank could see a scrape on the guy’s temple and he smirked cruelly, satisfied with what he’d done._

_“Who started this, huh?” the guard holding Frank asked._

_“Me,” Frank answered before the other guy or any of the cell mates could say anything. He wasn’t setting himself up to be disbelieved again, so he lied. “I did. Fucker’s face pissed me off, so I took care of it.”_

_The guards looked at Frank apprehensively, not expecting Frank to display such behavior. He had been well-behaved for almost his entire stay and had not given them many problems._

_“Alright,” the guard holding Frank grunted, pulling him away from the crowd. “Isolation. Everyone else get back into your lines and go to your lessons. Come on.”_

_The guard dragged Frank away while the other guards got the rest of the inmates into order and back on their daily schedule. Frank went silently and without a fight. The guard stuck him in a small square room, stepped out, and shut the door. There was only a small rectangle for the guard’s eyes to look into the room._

_“Isolation just till lunch,” the guard spoke. “It’s your first time doing anything like that, so we won’t make it long.”_

_Frank didn’t say anything. Isolation was not as bad as it was made out to be. He was alone and didn’t have to deal with the taunts of the other cell mates. He didn’t have to be reminded of Kevin everywhere he looked, from the table they sat at, to where they usually sat outside, to everything. Kevin was everywhere. Kevin wasn’t in this square room, though. So Frank was sure to end himself up in isolation as many times as he could. He started fights because of jeers, and he started fights for no reason at all. By the last week, he had lost all visiting rights—which was only one more visit anyways—his time outside was spent in isolation instead, and he was forced to sleep there, too. The only time he wasn’t in isolation was for lessons and lunch._

_That final week passed by faster than all of Frank’s time in the center. Before he knew it, he was in the backseat of his parent’s car. He felt like he was in heaven just to be able to wear something other than the jumpsuit. He was in a t-shirt, covered by a warm hoodie, with its hood pulled over his head. His jeans, which were usually tighter, were loose on him since he’d obviously lost weight while in the center. The car ride was silent, not much different than their greeting. Frank’s mother hugged him when she first saw him; his father didn’t. They didn’t say anything to each other. They signed some paperwork and then headed to the car._

_The first words that were spoken were by Frank’s mother when they entered the house._

_“You want something to eat?” she asked, as the three of them walked into the house._

_“I’ve been eating nothing but shit from that hellhole’s cafeteria,” Frank said monotonously. “Of course I fucking do.”_

_Frank’s father and mother gaped at him and the way he spoke. That was not the way their son usually talked to them. Frank simply stood in the living room, hands in the pocket of his hoodie, waiting for them to go on and get him something to eat._

_“Watch your language and have respect,” Frank’s father said. “That place was supposed to teach you a lesson.”_

_“You know what?” Frank scoffed, his hands in tight fists in his pocket, fingernails digging painfully into his palms. “Fuck it. I’m not hungry.”_

_He spun around and went directly to his room, slamming the door shut and locking it. It was exactly how he’d left it, right down to the unfixed sheets of his bed. He sighed and crawled into his sheets, allowing them and the soft mattress to whisk him away into a deep sleep._

_Fortunately, no one woke Frank up from his sleep, and when he woke up, his room was dark. He glanced at his clock and saw that it was almost three o’clock in the morning. He actually was hungry, unfortunately, so he got up to leave his room, but stopped before even opening the door when he heard loud voices that undoubtedly belonged to his mom and dad. He pressed his ear to the door and listened closely._

_“—what he says, there was no way to prove anything!” his father yelled._

_“But, it’s Frankie!” his mom yelled back. “Since when has he given us any trouble?? None of this is like him and you know it!”_

_“We’ve talked about this before,” his father said, not as loudly as earlier, but still loud enough for Frank to hear. “We talked about this while he was away. There’s no changing it and him having this fucking attitude of his is not going to improve things.”_

_“But what if it’s because he’s so angry that we didn’t believe him?” his mom argued. “What if that’s what all this is about. And…and who knows what kind of people he was with over there. What they taught him. We don’t know what he’s been through.”_

_“And it won’t do us any good to wonder if he won’t tell us. Now drop it.”_

_And so it was dropped. Their voices could still be heard, not loud enough to form distinguishable words to Frank’s ears. Frank sighed and stepped away from the door, dropping back into his bed. His appetite was gone. He needed to make a decision. It took about five seconds for that decision to be made, and then he fell asleep._

_Frank woke up early the next morning and changed out of his day-old clothes. He then dug around the bottom of his closet for his backpack, emptied it of its school-related contents, and began piling necessary clothes into it. He threw in t-shirts, jeans, socks, and a few light sweaters. He also grabbed his Walkman CD player and headphones and stuck them in the front pocket. The hardest part was deciding what CD’s to take with him. He sighed and stared at the huge stack of CD’s. He couldn’t take them all and he knew it. He took his ten favorites, which was the hardest decision he had ever made in his entire life, and made room for them in his backpack, making about three discs fit into one case to make room._

_Satisfied with the contents of his backpack, he put it back in his closet, and made his way out of the room. His parents could be heard talking quietly in the kitchen already, and the smell of breakfast hit Frank hard. He was drawn in._

_Breakfast happened silently. He took his seat where he would usually sit before he’d left to the center, and his mother served him and his father and then herself, giving them hot bowls of cinnamon-smelling oatmeal that had Frank drooling. Frank ate quicker than his parents, both because of hunger and also because of his plan. He took his plate to the sink when he was done, washing it quickly, and then practically sprinted out of the kitchen, still without a word to or from his parents._

_Frank kept glancing over his shoulder as he made his way into his parents’ bedroom. He knew what he was doing was bad and he would have never thought he would do something like it, but his relationship with his parents was no longer what it used to be, so his guilt wasn’t that strong._

_His parents had two nightstands, one for each of them. Frank started with his father’s, opening the top drawer and finding his wallet. His father didn’t always carry much cash on him, only his credit cards. Frank was happy enough to find twenty dollars, quickly pulling it out and shoving it into his pocket. He placed the wallet back in its place, and then went to his mother’s nightstand, taking a glance out of the bedroom door. He couldn’t see the kitchen from where he was, but he was glad enough not to see anyone._

_He searched around his mother’s nightstand, not finding her wallet anywhere in there. He stood up and looked around the room, wondering where it might be. It hit him stupidly in the face when he saw their closet. He ran in there, reaching for the top shelf where one of his mother’s purses rested. The one she was currently using was always the one at the end of the shelf. He easily found her wallet in there and was more than glad to see that his mom carried more cash than his father. She had thirty-eight dollars, which he added to his pocket, and then put everything back in its place. Luckily, after he was done basically robbing his parents, he stepped out into the hallway and could hear that his parents were still leisurely enjoying their breakfast._

_Frank slipped into his room, put on a heavy jacket over his hoodie for when the weather would get rough, and then remembered to take his own wallet for the sake of his ID and storing the money he had just stolen. With that, he slung his heavy and fat backpack over his shoulder, and stepped out of his room, taking a deep breath with each step he took._

_His mom was just standing from her seat when he appeared at the entrance of the kitchen, leaving his backpack against the wall outside of the kitchen and out of sight, so he could explain himself with words instead._

_His mother froze halfway out of her seat, watching him expectantly, and his father was eyeing him as well, keeping his eyes emotionless. If Frank allowed himself to admit it, he almost broke down crying. Everything looked familiar, but it wasn’t. His mother, with her round face, and silky black hair pulled back into a neat bun. His father, looking a lot like Frank, with his big hazel eyes, and arched eye brows; his glasses were slipping down his nose slowly, until he would eventually have to slide them back up. Frank wondered if he would inherit his father’s or his mother’s eyesight when he got older. That thought alone almost made him run back into his room. He didn’t, though._

_“I’m leaving,” Frank said simply._

_“Leaving where?” his mother asked, looking innocently unaware, while his father had adjusted his glasses and leaned forward, most likely knowing where this was going._

_“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged. “I’m leaving, gonna go live somewhere on my own, probably on the streets for a while till I figure something out.”_

_“Frank—” his mother began, her voice already shaking._

_“No, wait, let me finish,” Frank said, keeping his eyes down. “For once let me be the one to talk.” He glanced up and saw that his mom and dad both had their mouths shut, looking exactly the way they did when the trials were taking place. His mother looked vulnerable and confused, while his father looked about ready to shoot Frank in the ass with a shotgun. “You guys fucking ruined me, you know that? I haven’t done anything since…since I can’t even remember! I haven’t had a detention since, like, middle school, maybe, and I never needed you to tell me to do my homework ‘cause I did that shit on my own, because I cared about my school, and…and I cared because you cared. I wanted to make you both happy, so I tried so fucking hard not to fuck up. And I never though, ever, I never thought I would actually need you guys to, like, defend me or something, but I did._

_“Some guy you’ve never even heard of accused me of shit you know I don’t do, and you all just fucking believed it. You believed some kid you don’t know over your son. You guys know me, you fucking know me…knew me. You knew me, or I thought you did, but you…you still just threw me under a fucking bus. So I’m done. I’m not gonna pretend like I forgot how you fucked me over, and I’m not gonna pretend you think I’m innocent, ‘cause you still think I deserved to go to juvie, and I’m not even gonna get started on the shit… the fucking shit I went through there. Don’t look for me or anything, ‘cause no matter what you do or how many times you bring me back, I’m never gonna stay. I can’t live with people I don’t trust. And I don’t fucking trust anyone anymore.”_

_With that last line, every single one of his words spoken to the floor and not to his parents’ faces, Frank turned to the backpack, threw it over his shoulder, and ran out of the house. He didn’t see his mother’s tear-stained face and his father’s widening eyes. He didn’t care to. There wouldn’t be anything holding him back._

_Frank wasn’t planning on staying in Belleville; it was too small and he couldn’t avoid his parents or their acquaintances, so he would have to leave. He just had one thing to do before he left._

_It was a Sunday night, and he slept in an alleyway not too far from his high school. He got as comfortable as he could, berating himself for not thinking of taking a blanket along. With his Walkman tucked into his jacket, and his headphones on, he allowed the music to make the cold floor he was on a bit more bearable._

_Frank wouldn’t be going back to school, obviously, but the following day he would be visiting his high school because he needed to see the only person that could answer some of his questions. He needed to see Clint. With “ATWA” by System of a Down blaring and singing his emotions right into his ears, Frank fell asleep, feeling absolutely damaged beyond repair._


	44. Chapter 43: Flashback Part 4

_Frank was stealthy. He wouldn’t just corner Clint in the middle of the day at school, since everyone assumed he had been the one to beat him; that would be a heavy load of trouble that he did not have time to deal with. So, Frank waited across the street from the school early in the morning. With the busyness of students being dropped off and some of them walking up to the school’s entrance, Frank went unnoticed. He knew the path that lead to Clint’s home since he had seen Clint head that direction when he saved him, so he kept his eyes there, hoping Clint would be walking alone._

_Most of the students had already arrived, and Frank didn’t have a watch on him, but he was pretty sure classes had already started. He had planted his ass on the ground, losing his patience slowly. Just as he was beginning to think he should probably just leave, he saw someone running in the distance, coming from where he had expected Clint to. The running figure got closer and Frank immediately recognized him. It was Clint without a doubt._

_Apprehensiveness teased Frank’s mind. Part of him was scared of not being able to get the truth out of Clint, and having to live his life with questions unanswered. That seemed torturous. Nervousness thrown aside, Frank was across the street and heading towards Clint’s running figure. Clint didn’t recognize him when he got closer, so he was getting ready to run around Frank, not expecting Frank’s hand to reach out and take ahold of his arm. Clint almost fell to the ground with the sudden stop, but managed to steady himself._

_“Hey, man, I’m late!” Clint panted out. “What the hell are you doing?”_

_Frank had the hood of his jacket up, so his face was not entirely visible to Clint. He turned around and glanced at his surroundings. A car dropping off another late student was pulling away from the school, while another student could be seen running down the opposite path and towards the school’s entrance. The coast was clear._

_Frank held a tight grip to Clint’s arm and started dragging him away, just enough to make sure they were hidden in case someone appeared._

_“L-Let go of me!” Clint exclaimed, being forcibly dragged along with Frank. “Who the hell are you?!”_

_Frank used his free hand to shove the hood off his head and turned his head enough so that Clint could catch sight of his face._

_“Oh,” Clint sighed, his voice trembling slightly._

_“Oh,” Frank nodded, keeping his eyes set straight ahead._

_Clint stopped fighting after that, allowing Frank to drag him wherever he wanted. Frank wasn’t sure if Clint did it out of guilt or simply knowing that even if he tried to run, Frank would get him; either way, Frank didn’t care. The reasons behind Clint’s present actions were of no significance. What mattered to Frank was the past._

_They walked along silently for a few minutes until Frank stopped in front of what looked like an apartment complex. He released Clint, shoving his back against the wall, and staring him down._

_“Fucking talk,” Frank gritted out._

_“If you’re gonna hit me, just get it over with,” Clint whimpered, his eyes shut tight, and his body cowering in front of Frank’s. He was taller than Frank, yet felt so much smaller than him._

_“I’m not gonna hit you,” Frank said honestly. “I’m not gonna fucking be what you made people think I was.”_

_“I-I’m sorry,” Clint cried out, in what was just short of being a sob. Frank had to bite his lip to stifle back the guilt and sympathy trying to make their way through to him. “When I found out they sent you to juvie, I would have—I swear I would have—I didn’t think it would be that bad! I’m so sorry!”_

_“What the fuck did I do to you?” Frank hissed, pressing his fists against the wall on either side of Clint’s head; he needed to keep his fists busy or he knew he would eventually give in to his angry desire to punch Clint in the face. “How the fuck did I deserve that??”_

_“You didn’t!” Clint protested, still looking down at the ground, unwilling to make eye contact with Frank. “You didn’t deserve it and you didn’t do anything wrong. I-I was just a coward, alright?”_

_“A coward?” Frank scoffed. “A liar, a fucked up liar, but I don’t see how the hell you’re a coward.”_

_“I’m a coward because they made me lie,” Clint sighed shakily._

_“Who’s they?”_

_“The jocks that you got me away from,” Clint mumbled. “Oh my God, you helped me and I fucking sold you out. Thank you. I’m so sorry.” Frank inched closer to Clint, his fists scraping against the wall, urging Clint to continue. Clint flinched. “They told me…they told me not to say it was them. And they told me to say it was you. They said to blame it on the guy that helped me or they’d come after me. I was-I was fucking scared! So I l-lied like they told me to.”_

_Frank’s mouth fell open and he simply stared at Clint. His fists slipped away from the building behind Clint, and fell to his sides. Clint loosened up when he sensed Frank pulling away from him, daring a glance up. The hurt and anger on Frank’s face was evident, but Clint knew there was no physical danger to fear from him._

_“I’m sorry,” Clint whispered, almost inaudibly. “I’m so fucking sor—”_

_“I risked my ass for you,” Frank cut him off. “I didn’t even fucking know you, but I risked my ass for you to get you away from those guys! And you didn’t have the fucking balls to tell the truth?!”_

_“I’m sorry,” Clint repeated. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I know, I know! I just...I was too scared of what they would do.”_

_“There were three guys that could have fucking kicked my ass that day, but I did it for you!!!” Frank yelled, his voice hitting Clint’s ears hard and raw. “I would have done it again, too, you fucking asshole! I would have done it again for you! I didn’t even know you, but I would have done it!”_

_Clint’s open mouth trembled and tears filled his eyes. He knew he was wrong; there was no justifying what he did. Frank’s words, no matter how much they hurt, needed to be said. He almost wished Frank did beat him. He would deserve it that time around._

_“Th-There’s nothing I can say,” Clint said, forcing himself to keep his eyes on Frank. “There isn’t anything else to say but I’m sorry.”_

_“Then don’t say anything ‘cause your sorry doesn’t fucking matter,” Frank spat at him. “Just listen to this.” Frank took a step forward and grabbed the front of Clint’s jacket, using it to press him against the building. He had his face close to Clint’s. “Just keep this shit in mind. You fucked up my relationship with my parents. They didn’t fucking believe me and did absolute shit to help me because they took your word, so I’m leaving home. I’m gonna be living on the streets for a long fucking time until I can figure something out. Oh, and I went to juvie, made a pretty good fucking friend there, and you know what? He raped me.”_

_Clint gasped when Frank said that. Frank swallowed loudly and forced himself to continue. He hadn’t said those words so honestly in his head before, much less out of his mouth._

_“Yeah, thought that shit only happened in prisons, right?” Frank continued, his tone mocking and unwavering. “Well, it happened there. Now I fucking hate myself. I hate myself for being gay, for trusting people, for helping them out, only to have them fuck me over so bad in the end. All this happened because of you.”_

_“Frank,” Clint choked out._

_“Don’t fucking say my name,” Frank seethed, tightening his grip in Clint’s jacket. “Don’t fucking say my name or try to comfort me or apologize because I will never forgive you. I will forget you because you mean nothing to me, but I won’t ever be able to forgive the bull shit you put me through, so I don’t want you to forget it either.”_

_Frank shoved Clint to the side, Clint landing roughly on his ass. Clint had started crying while Frank had him held up, the tears running down his cheeks, and Frank couldn’t stay strong with the tears in front of him, so he shoved him away and out of his sight._

_“I hope you remember that when you live your normal life,” Frank said, and that was all he had to say. He had his explanation as to why Clint had sold him out under false pretenses, and he had released all he wanted to release to Clint. He walked away, then, and never looked back._

_Frank hated using guilt trips because of how much he hated them being used on him, but when it came to Clint he had absolutely no conscience and Clint was lucky that Frank actually felt bad enough not to scrape his face against the pavement they were standing on. Frank’s hands had really been itching to do it._

_Frank wasted no time to get out of Belleville. He went to Hoboken, and although it was only a bit less than half an hour away from home, it was far enough. He wanted to be close enough to be familiar with the area, and far enough to just be away from his old life. Hoboken was the perfect middle._

_For about a month, Frank travelled from alleyway to alleyway, managing to live off of the money he had stolen from his parents. It was cold and it was difficult, yet he managed. It was purely by luck that he discovered the homeless shelter in Hoboken, which guaranteed him a free meal. He was slowly growing broke by the end of that first month, so that was a blessing._

_He sat at the homeless shelter day after day, scarfing down the meals they served like they were heaven on a plate. That time, with a warm enough environment and free food, served as the time he would contemplate his life and what he would do with it in the future, notice how shitty his situation was, question whether or not leaving his parents was the right decision, reflect on the things he had been forced to experience, and then come back full circle to know that he would never return to his parents._

_Frank had gone out looking for jobs—simple ones, like cashiers, waiters, or even custodial services. All of them gave him an application that asked for two things that he no longer had: an address and a contact number. He was obviously never able to even apply for those jobs, considering he couldn’t explain to them that he was underage and homeless._

_Frank’s birthday passed during this period. He hadn’t noticed until he saw kids and adults running around the streets with their costumes and candy. It was Halloween. He would be spending his seventeenth birthday alone and out in the cold. The only good thing was that a couple of kids took pity on him and left candy in his lap when they walked by. When it came to the eager kids in their bright costumes, he managed a smile and that always earned him an innocent smile right back. With a birthday wish to himself, he ate the candy he had received. It had become a luxury in that short time span._

_Frank had taken to a specific alley that wasn’t too far from the homeless shelter. It was small and he noticed that not a lot of people passed through it, so he often returned to it and slept there. He would wrap himself up in the blanket he managed to buy before he went broke, and would sleep as comfortably as he possibly could._

_On one night, a door that led to the alleyway opened—he hadn’t noticed it before—and light flooded out of it, along with a man carrying a trash bag. The guy easily spotted Frank and Frank heaved himself up off the floor, muttering, “Fuck,” as he hurried to gather himself and leave. From his experience, he noticed that people were not fond of homeless people sleeping anywhere near their buildings._

_“No, no, you’re good,” the guy quickly said, gesturing for Frank to sit with his free hand. Frank was half standing and staring warily at the man. The guy simply walked over to the huge trash can and tossed the trash bag in there, holding his nose plugged as he did so. “Fuck, does that smell bother you?” He took in Frank’s state. Frank was still unresponsive, staring at the guy. He had interacted so little with people that he almost forgot he was still visible. Apparently, no one talked to the homeless. “Wait here.”_

_The man turned around and went back through the door he’d come from. Frank shrugged and decided to stay since he had been given permission. He sank back down into the ground and brought his blanket close. Just a few minutes later, the man reappeared and hurried over to Frank._

_“Here,” he held his hands out, and Frank stared up at him. The man was holding out a pair of gloves, a beanie, water, and a cookie. Frank simply blinked up at him. “The store isn’t mine,” the guy shrugged as though he had been addressed, “it’s my dad’s, or I would have gotten more. But I can pay this off from my pocket, so here.” When Frank made absolutely no move to take what was being offered, the guy bent over and placed them all on his lap. “Come on, they don’t bite, alright?”_

_Frank cleared his throat before speaking. “Thank you,” he spoke, and the guy beamed at Frank. “But why?”_

_“I dunno,” the guy shrugged, standing up. “I guess it doesn’t cost me much. You need it, you know? Anyways, I gotta get back to work.”_

_Frank nodded. The guy waved. Frank waved back. Then Frank was alone again. That was possibly the most “normal” experience Frank had had since officially becoming homeless. He was grateful for the kind gesture, and quickly put to use what had been given to him. The gloves were nice and warm and so was the beanie, both of them making sleeping a lot easier. The water and the cookie he would save and make them last awhile._

_That wasn’t Frank’s last encounter with the guy. About two days later, he went into the store the guy said his dad owned, looking for batteries. His CD player was dying, and it was the only thing keeping him sane. The batteries were only ten cents more than what he had and he felt like crying. The conditions he was living in were a lot worse than not being able to buy batteries for his CD player, but he never asked for anything anymore. He didn’t want anything normal. The only normal thing he held onto was his music, and he felt like he would break down entirely without it. Knowing that there was no use, he turned away from the batteries, ready to walk out empty handed._

_“Hey!” a familiar voice called out. Frank turned around and saw the guy that had helped him out in the alley. “You’re the guy that was sleeping outside, huh?”_

_Frank nodded. The store was small, so they would easily hear each other if they talked normally, yet the guy had a ridiculously loud way of speaking._

_“What did you need?” the guy asked._

_Frank glanced at the batteries briefly and then back at the guy in front of him._

_“Nothing,” he sighed, getting ready to turn around. “Thanks for the other day.”_

_“No, wait, hey, you were looking at something,” the guy insisted, stepping out from the counter and towards Frank. He glanced over the shelves that Frank had been looking at. There were a variety of things, so he wasn’t sure what Frank needed. “Tell me what you need, man, alright?”_

_“Batteries,” Frank gave in. “Double A. I’m ten cents short, though.”_

_“Oh, they’re cheap,” the guy shrugged, bending over to grab a pack. “I’ll get ‘em for you.”_

_“No, no, that’s fine,” Frank quickly tried to protest, except that the guy had already walked back to the register, so Frank simply followed._

_“They’re cheap,” the guy repeated. “I’m no millionaire so I’m not gonna buy you something I can’t afford, but this is nothin’. I’ll pay all of it, not just the ten cents.” Frank had opened his mouth to argue, but the guy loudly interrupted, “No arguments, man! I’m doing it!”_

_Frank swallowed and just waited as the man rung up the batteries, paying from his own pocket. He slid them over to Frank and smiled._

_“Thank you,” Frank sighed, feeling gratitude beyond belief. He took the batteries and shoved them in his pocket._

_“No problem,” the guy shrugged. “You know, you look younger in the light. How old are you?”_

_Frank gulped and looked down. He didn’t need people knowing he was underage; someone might turn him into the police who would take him back to his parents._

_“Secretive, I see,” the guy joked. “It’s cool. I get it. Well, take care, man. If you need something, let me know.”_

_“Thank you for everything,” Frank quickly said. “All the small shit means a lot. Thank you.”_

_“Not a problem,” the guy smiled._

_Frank left the store that day and made sure never to return. He could feel himself growing too fond of the guy doing him constant favors and being overtly kind. Frank could feel himself gaining that sense of admiration he had once held for Clint, and that sense of loyalty he’d felt towards Kevin. Neither of those turned out to be in Frank’s best interest, so he wouldn’t allow a repeat to happen. He never saw that guy again._

_For another six months, Frank lived the difficult life he had chosen for himself. He knew it would be practically impossible to get a job while he was homeless, much less underage, so he gave up looking for a while and focused on surviving. Dealing with the snow was the worst. He got sick a countless number of times, and was almost sure he would die, going days without food because he couldn’t move out from under his useless blanket. Somehow, he survived._

_There was a music store that he constantly visited. He knew he couldn’t afford to actually buy anything, but he found some comfort in roaming the aisles, looking through CD’s he knew he had left at home, and finding new music that he would have to wait to buy. It was through the music store that his life began to improve. When things started looking up, they seemed to pass by in a blur._

_It started with the worker at the music store striking up conversation with Frank since he would see him there so often, to him offering Frank a job because he thought Frank had amazing taste in music, to Frank basically securing himself a job there without any sort of contact information being asked of him. The guy simply told him to show up at eight in the morning, and since Frank didn’t have a watch, he would show up when the sun was rising and wait there._

_For another six months, Frank was still homeless, but he had a job and he was beginning to save money. Every few weeks, he’d spoil himself and rent out a motel room. The guy Frank worked with, whose name was Nick, was not nosy in anyway and that was perfect for Frank. They maintained a strictly professional relationship, and occasionally Nick would leave the store to Frank for an entire day. Frank didn’t dare tell Nick his real age; it could have cost him everything._

_When Frank finally hit eighteen, the first thing he did was open a bank account, and then right after that, he found a horrible-looking apartment that was within his budget. It was small, beat-up, and the building looked like it would collapse. Compared to the streets Frank had been so accustomed to, it was a mansion._

_For two years, Frank continued working with Nick, basically co-managing the store. At the end of those two years, Frank had saved enough to upgrade to a better apartment. And in about six months after that, Nick announced that he was quitting, but that the boss that ran the store said he’d leave the store to Frank to run. At the age of twenty, just half a year before hitting twenty-one, Frank was the manager of his music store and it would become the focal point of his life._

_To celebrate the fact that he was practically running his own music store, Frank splurged. He went to the nearest tattoo shop and decided it was time to get himself inked. While he was there, he felt daring and decided he also wanted to get pierced. A lip ring and nose ring that his mother had always forbidden._

_“You’re fucking crazy, man,” the tattoo artist, who would also be doing the piercings, laughed as he did the stencil work for the jack-o-lantern on Frank’s back. “You got a fucking kink for pain?”_

_“Nah,” Frank said simply. “Just needed a change.”_

_Frank’s tattoo came out exactly how he had envisioned it so he promised himself that he would return to that shop for future tattoos. After a few more visits, he would finally learn that his tattoo artist’s name was John McGuire, who would later force Frank to call him Hambone, and would basically become Frank’s only friend for years, whether he liked it or not—he secretly liked it._

_On the same day that Frank got his first tattoo, he also bought a guitar, similar to the one he had left at his parents’ house. It was a day for celebration. Frank had the piercings he’d always wanted, a slowly healing tattoo, a guitar, a perfectly comfortable apartment, and a music store to run as he pleased. When deciding to tough it out and live on the streets, he never would have thought that that period of his life would end so soon._

_On that same day that Frank’s life felt perfect, he decided to call his parents. He hadn’t spoken to them since he left, yet his home phone number still seemed to be imprinted into his memory. He sat on the sofa of his living room, his house phone held firmly against his ear as he waited for someone to pick up._

_“Hello?” his mother answered._

_Frank inhaled deeply._

_“Hey, Mom,” he breathed out._

_“Frank?!” she practically screamed. “Frankie??”_

_“Yeah,” he sighed, already feeling guilty to hear the relief in her voice, “yeah, Mom, it’s me.”_

_Immediately, she started crying, unabashedly weeping into the phone, sobbing out words of gratitude to God for keeping her son alive. Frank waited through her crying that seemed to last forever, feeling guiltier and guiltier with every passing second. When she stopped crying, they didn’t visit the past. Frank simply updated her on how his life was going, the home and job that were now his. She repeatedly voiced how proud she was of his accomplishments, squealed about how she couldn’t wait to tell Frank’s father the good news, and begged for a visit. Frank said that his schedule at work wasn’t exactly flexible, but promised her one when he got the chance. Then, they hung up._

_She called back every once in a while, leaving larger gaps between her calls when it became obvious how unwilling Frank was to reestablish their relationship. Frank never held true to the promise of a visit. Their relationship remained distant._

_The life he lived was lonely, but that was how Frank wanted it. He wanted to live at a distance from people. The only person that got remotely near was Hambone, yet even he was kept at a safe distance for the entire six years that he knew Frank._

_About six years after Frank had officially perfected his secluded life, there was an intrusion. Gerard made his way into it._

Now, Frank sat across from Gerard, having cut his mask to pieces in showing Gerard the darkest corners of his past.


	45. Chapter 44: Doubtful Consistency

Frank had demolished every barrier he had ever built right before Gerard’s very eyes. He had recalled the most pivotal and hurtful times of his life and recited them to Gerard. There was an uneasy feeling lurking in his stomach the entire time, making his voice tremble slightly and pushing him to take deeper breaths and longer breaks between words.

Gerard could see the discomfort as Frank began his story, telling of Clint and how he’d helped him, only to have Clint later blame Frank for a beating he received. Frank talked about how hurt and betrayed he had felt because of his parents. Gerard pushed aside his nervousness and moved so that he was sitting next to Frank, taking his hand in his own to comfort him. Frank appreciated the gesture, even if it made him a bit more nervous. He didn’t want to reject Gerard, though, so he held Gerard’s hand just as firmly.

Then Frank began talking about going to juvie. Gerard had interjected with a question: “What? So your parents actually let you get sent there? Like, they didn’t even bother to look a little more into it before they just let you go?”

Gerard could tell that his question made Frank anxious, bringing back past emotions as well as eliciting unanswered questions that Frank had, without a doubt, asked himself once.

“Yeah,” Frank had sighed in response, eyes locked on his and Gerard’s hands—they’d been locked downwards the entire time; he didn’t dare look up at Gerard. “They didn’t do anything.”

Gerard stayed quiet after that; he figured any commentary he wanted to interject with would only make things more difficult for Frank. Frank appreciated the silence as well as the subtle squeezes of his hand that Gerard gave him instead of voicing his thoughts with words.

When Frank spoke of Kevin, his eyes were shut just as tight as his hand that was wrapped around Gerard’s, fighting harder to keep his voice steady. He told of how much Kevin had done for him, standing up for him and protecting him. Then he talked about Kevin’s abuse of Frank’s willingness and guilt, using it to gain favors from Frank. Gerard felt Frank’s pain entirely, able to sympathize, and finally understand why Frank was so sensitive when it came to Blake; it was all because Frank had been there before.

When Frank had to tell of the rape, he paused for a very long time, until he just spit it out. Gerard was taken aback; he had to pause all the thoughts in his head to make sure he had properly processed what Frank had said. Gerard had had a feeling that something like that happened with Kevin, but never would have imagined it to be completely true.

Gerard had to hold back his own tears, knowing they would not serve to comfort Frank, whose voice was shaking uncontrollably after that. Gerard squeezed his hand tighter and tighter, nearing the point of pain, but not caring. He wanted to keep Frank grounded and keep his mind in the present so that it didn’t linger too far into the past memories.

Frank didn’t pause after that. He felt as though he would break down if he gave himself a second to think about anything other than the words spilling out of his mouth.

Frank continued on about how things changed at the detention center when Kevin left, how he moped around until he had to get stronger and defend himself. Gerard could see that that was when Frank’s thick exterior shell had begun developing.

Frank felt himself growing physically and emotionally tired as he got to telling about going back to his parents and having to leave them. He had never talked so much about himself, much less so personally, and it was exhausting on every level. If Gerard had sensed this, he would have told Frank to stop and only continue when he was ready. Frank knew that that was what Gerard would do, so for Gerard’s sake, he continued.

He revealed why Clint had sold him out the way he did, told about how he had to live on the streets for just months short of a year, and how he’d found a job by pure luck, and how the music store had played the lead role in getting his life back on track. He told it all quickly and briefly, wanting to stop talking as soon as possible.

“You never heard from your parents?” Gerard couldn’t help but ask when Frank stayed quiet, signaling that he was done.

“I called my mom,” Frank explained, having skipped that part for no particular reason other than so he could get to the ending. “She cried ‘cause she was so happy, and we maybe talked for a couple months. She would call, I wouldn’t. She figured I was still pretty fucking pissed about what happened, so she kind of gave up after a while.”

Gerard nodded to himself, staring ahead while Frank stared down. The silence dragged on much too long for comfort, so Frank mumbled, “Yeah, that’s, uh, basically it.”

Frank grew more nervous than ever about Gerard’s reaction. At first, he was simply nervous about being so open to Gerard, but now that he was sitting there in silence, he realized how much he wanted a reaction of any kind.

“God, Frank,” Gerard breathed out, after too many long and excruciating minutes. It sounded like he had been holding his breath, which he had been for a few seconds. He was silent for a couple more seconds before he finally released Frank’s hand, took him by the shoulders, and pulled him into a hug. “Oh my God.” Frank stayed silent, shut his eyes, and returned the hug, allowing his arms to slip around Gerard’s waist and rest against his back. “I can’t fucking believe…I can’t imagine…” Gerard was left speechless. There were no words to describe what he felt.

Gerard’s cheek was resting against the side of Frank’s head, and he slid it down Frank’s hair until his face was hidden in the crook of Frank’s neck. Frank let out a loud sigh when he felt Gerard’s uneven breaths hit the sensitive skin there. Gerard took in a deep breath, like he was sniffing Frank, but he was really just trying to contain the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He did not need to be the one crying at that moment.

Words had escaped his mind and were nowhere to be found, so he communicated in any way that he could. He kissed at Frank’s collar bone where his lips had landed, short pecks that travelled up the side of Frank’s neck. Frank’s eyes were shut and his fingers dug into the back of the hoodie Gerard was wearing. Gerard’s lips moved along Frank’s jaw and up to place a kiss on his cheek, lingering there. He pulled his lips away from Frank’s cheek and held their foreheads together. Frank’s eyes were still shut, his entire face still tense.

“Frank,” Gerard’s voice came out in a whisper, pulling his face way. He ran his hands through Frank’s hair, moving the dark strands out of his face so he could see Frank’s face clearly. His palms rested against the sides of Frank’s neck, his fingers met at the back of Frank’s neck, and his thumbs ran soothingly over the sharp ends of Frank’s jaw. Frank’s jaw was tense, and Gerard’s hands were trembling. They could feel each other’s anxious movements, which only aided in increasing their own anxieties.

“Frank,” Gerard spoke again, somehow able to steady his voice. Frank took a deep breath before he opened his eyes. His eyes met with Gerard’s, unwaveringly. Frank told himself that he had already gotten the worst part over with. He had already revealed to Gerard everything about himself, so there was nothing to be nervous about; there was no reason to avoid his eyes. Gerard was surprised at the way Frank’s gaze didn’t falter. Frank’s eye contact was always shifty except for that moment. At such close proximity, with such a long chance to look into them, Gerard could see the pain in Frank’s eyes. He could see how the past haunted his eyes with a glossy veil of tears that were being held back.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard finally got himself to speak.

“God, don’t,” Frank immediately groaned in response, turning his head to the side and breaking the eye contact. He tried to shrug Gerard’s hands off his neck.

“No, wait, listen,” Gerard quickly said, keeping his hands in place, and using his thumb to angle Frank’s face so that he was looking at Gerard again.

“Don’t start saying sorry,” Frank said firmly, his eyes becoming evasive again. “I didn’t fucking tell you all that shit so _you_ can be sorry about anything or take the blame for anything.”

“I’m not,” Gerard shook his head. “I swear I’m not.”

“Then what are you sorry for?” Frank asked, hesitant eyes meeting with Gerard’s again.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” Gerard sighed. Frank opened his mouth to speak, but Gerard beat him to it. “I’m not sorry because I did anything, I’m just sorry you had to go through it. I’m sorry that so many people you cared about…that they hurt you the way they did. If I had known…I wouldn’t have been so damn pushy, and—”

“No, don’t go there,” Frank interrupted. “You didn’t fucking know and that was because of me. _I_ didn’t tell you so you didn’t know a damn thing. You don’t need to feel guilty for things that weren’t your fault, Gerard. You don’t need to carry shit on your back like that.”

“And you don’t either,” Gerard shrugged, actually breaking the eye contact himself by staring down. “You don’t need to carry all the shit that’s happened on your back like you do. You know none of it was your fault, right?”

Gerard had been in Frank’s place before, not exactly, but similarly enough. He knew that with feeling betrayed, there was always a sense of responsibility that went with it. When he was wronged repeatedly, he stopped blaming others and began blaming himself. He was the only constant variable in each pattern.

“I fucking trusted the wrong people,” Frank said simply. “That’s—”

“You tell me not to think like that, but you’re doing it,” Gerard said, gaining the courage to meet Frank’s eyes again. “Maybe I trusted Blake too much and maybe I trusted you too much. So is it my fault?”

“No,” Frank said warily.

“So why are you wrong for trusting people like Clint and Kevin?” Gerard argued. There was determination in his voice. Frank could feel it and he knew Gerard had a point. After so many years of blaming himself, though, he didn’t know how to just stop.

“You’re not wrong,” Gerard said when Frank gave no response. “You didn’t do anything to deserve what they did to you. God, Frank, everything makes so much _sense_ now! How you would act, and what you did, it just...it all makes sense.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Frank said, almost begging, like he refused to allow what he did to Gerard to be forgotten.

“It’s not,” Gerard agreed. “It just explains it. It explains everything. I finally understand you. You don’t know how fucking horrible it was to want you and care about you so much, but never understand you.”

“I’m sorry,” Frank sighed, shaking his head. “I’m so fucking sorry. It’s no excuse, it never will be, but…I guess I was so scared of being abused again, I ended up abusing you.”

“I know and I forgive you,” Gerard replied almost immediately. “I forgive you for everything.”

“Not everything,” Frank mumbled, dropping his gaze down.

“Everything,” Gerard repeated, dipping his head to catch Frank’s eyes and keep them from going back to their evasive habits. “Even if you don’t want me to, I do.”

Frank looked like he was ready to interject with something about never being forgiven because he didn’t deserve it. Gerard didn’t give him the chance. He pushed forward and kissed him, Frank’s tense lips meeting with Gerard’s ready lips. Frank loosened up and used his own lips to add to the kiss, moving them along with Gerard’s, pecking gently whenever Gerard did. The sensations he got from just being that close to Gerard would never get old. Every part of him that was touching Gerard—his neck where Gerard’s hands were, his chest where Gerard’s arms rested, and his lips and face that were meeting with Gerard’s—were like pinpoints of fire.

When Gerard pulled his lips away, Frank almost chased them down, needing more, and needing that intensity to keep his mind from wandering. He didn’t chase after him, though. He simply kept his eyes shut and let his head fall down.

“Frank?” Frank heard the concern in Gerard’s voice. He couldn’t explain why he felt so nauseous at that point. It was slowly sinking in that Gerard knew everything there was to know about him, and it terrified him.

“It’s fucking scary,” Frank admitted, forcing himself to voice his thoughts to Gerard instead of keeping them bottled up. His head was still down and his eyes were still shut.

“What is?” Gerard asked, growing slightly concerned. Gerard slid one hand into Frank’s, holding it securely, and brought the other to Frank’s cheek, lifting his face up to look at him. Frank opened his eyes.

“Opening up like that,” Frank sighed. “It feels fucking scary to be so open like that…to tell you all of that, and now to tell you this, to let you know exactly what I’m feeling. To just be…I don’t know… exposed, I guess.”

“You never told anyone about this?” Gerard asked, feeling a weight of pressure to handle things properly. Frank had never trusted anyone with this, so Gerard had to make sure he didn’t regret it.

“Nah,” Frank shook his head. “Never trusted anyone enough. I never wanted to.”

“Do you regret it?” Gerard asked after gulping silently.

“No,” Frank said confidently; it put Gerard at ease. “I trust you.”

“Then you don’t need to be scared,” Gerard said, trying to comfort him. “I can be annoying, I know, and I can talk a lot, and ramble like a dumb ass, and be stubborn as fuck, and I mean, I’m doing it right now…my point is, I won’t give you a reason to regret trusting me. I won’t ever put you through anything like—”

“You don’t need to promise me that,” Frank quickly said, a smile playing at his lips after Gerard’s typical spill of words. “I already know you wouldn’t. I trust you because I know I don’t have to worry. I’m not worried about you messing things up. I’m worried about myself fucking shit up.” He paused and brought his free hand up to run through his hair, stopping at the back of his neck, rubbing where Gerard’s hands had been. He suddenly sat up, releasing Gerard’s hand and Gerard just stared up at him. “My ass hurts from sitting so long.”

Gerard nodded smiling, even though Frank couldn’t see it because he had his back to him.

“So…” Gerard said once he felt like Frank didn’t seem to plan on continuing anytime soon. “You’re afraid of fucking shit up? What do you mean?”

Frank let his head fall back, staring up at the ceiling, and releasing a long sigh. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing them up and down, and then sliding them just over his nose and mouth, and holding them there.

Gerard could just barely make out the movements Frank was making. Frank then dropped his hands to his sides and paced in front of Gerard. It wasn’t a long pace from one end of the living room to the other; it was simply a couple steps to the left and then to the right, a distraction to stall while the thoughts in his mind processed into words that could be spoken.

Frank finally stopped his pacing and simply stood in front of Gerard, looking down at him. He looked so vulnerable to Frank, the way he was nervously sitting there with his knees up so that they were out of Frank’s way, and his eyes staring up at him, waiting for things to be made even clearer.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do…” Frank paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. He gestured with one of his hands, like it was supposed to silently explain things to Gerard. It didn’t, obviously, so it dropped to his side again. “I don’t know what this is supposed to do. I know you _need_ me to be open the way I was today, and I don’t know if I can do that yet. I trust you, I swear I do, but…this is new to me. You gotta understand that this isn’t normal for me. I don’t know if I can actually do it.”

“Frank, you don’t need to explain,” Gerard said, smiling in a way that he hoped was comforting. The nervousness in Frank’s voice was obvious to Gerard. “I get it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Gerard shrugged, like it was obvious. “I don’t expect you to be a totally different person now. You’re not just gonna, you know, change overnight because we had awesome sex and I know your life story—fuck that sounded weird put together.” Gerard ran his hand through his hair this time. “I just know you’re still Frank and opening up is still not your favorite pastime, or whatever. The talking thing is more my area, I guess, even though I’m fucking that up pretty well…”

Frank smiled. How could he have not smiled at that moment? The way Gerard was rambling aimlessly, while still managing to make his point, was enough to make Frank want to grab Gerard and hold him close and never let go. Frank was ecstatic to see the Gerard he first met; the one that talked like he needed it to live. That Gerard was the one Frank knew before all the trials changed him, before his image was bruised by what his ex-boyfriend did, and before his livelihood was stripped away from him by Frank. It was the Gerard that annoyed him, yet the one he missed.

“I just,” Frank shook his head, the smile still on his face. “I just don’t wanna promise you anything yet. I don’t want us to be a—I don’t know—a thing, I guess, until I know how the fuck I’m supposed to do that. I know you won’t hurt me, I just need to be sure I won’t hurt you.”

“I trust you, you know,” Gerard said. “I know you won’t. But I’ll wait until you do, too.”

“You’re too fucking nice, you know that?” Frank laughed—it was a real and comfortable laugh. Gerard loved it. “If you wanted to…you know, you could.”

“What?” Gerard asked, tilting his head.

“If you didn’t want to wait,” Frank shrugged, looking away, suddenly embarrassed. He didn’t actually want Gerard to move on; he wanted to have Gerard, but he wouldn’t make Gerard wait for him if it took him too long to get around to having something together. “You can move on. I can’t make you wait for me.”

“And I’m too nice, huh?” Gerard laughed. Frank looked back down at him when he heard him laugh. Gerard stood up off the floor and placed his hands on Frank’s shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m not gonna wait ‘cause you want me to, I’m doing it because _I_ want you.”

Frank tried to hold back his grateful smile, which was made easier when Gerard kissed him again. Frank could get used to that, he really could. Frank’s hands joined behind Gerard’s back, pulling Gerard’s body closer to his, and Gerard lost one of his hands in Frank’s hair. Frank’s tongue barely nudged at Gerard’s lips before he was quick to part them. Gerard groaned when he felt Frank’s lack of hesitation through the way his tongue travelled around Gerard’s mouth. Frank felt the vibration of Gerard’s groan more than he heard it, which caused him to bring Gerard closer, leaving no distance between their bodies.

Gerard pulled his lips away when he felt himself already growing breathless.

“Would you be ok with seeing me like this with someone else?” Gerard asked suddenly, resting their foreheads together.

“What?” Frank’s forehead wrinkled and Gerard could feel it.

“You said I could move on and not wait for shit to be figured out,” Gerard explained, a teasing smirk on his face, “so you mean it wouldn’t bother you if I kissed someone else the way I kissed you?”

Frank’s eyes were wide and he was silent. He pulled his head back a little and saw the smirk on Gerard’s face, though, and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, fuck you,” he smirked right back, turning his face away from Gerard.

“Is that a no?” Gerard asked, grinning.

“Wasn’t a yes or a no,” Frank shrugged.

“You know how stubborn I am,” Gerard laughed, quickly dropping his lips to the exposed side of Frank’s neck. He brushed them until they were behind Frank’s ear, kissing the skin there and breathing warmly against it.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed. “Yeah—No—I mean, fuck, yes it would bother me, asshole.”

Gerard pulled back with a huge and victorious smile on his face.

“I didn’t know you’d be such a fucking tease,” Frank shook his head.

“And I didn’t know how much you’d like it,” Gerard bit his lip. “I guess we still have a lot to learn about each other.”

Frank nodded and leaned up to kiss Gerard. It seemed that the more he was in contact with Gerard’s lips, the more he missed them, and the more he wanted them. Showing his desire so openly the way he was made him nervous and made him feel weak. The sensations from Gerard’s lips on his, his breaths meeting with Frank’s between kisses, pushed the fear and anxiety to the back of his mind.

“What are we right now, then?” Gerard asked when their kiss ended.

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged. “What we were before, I guess, but with things more cleared up?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, “and with random make-outs, too?”

“Should we do that?” Frank asked, a pleased smile still on his face. Gerard couldn’t get over seeing him smile so much. “Is that ok?”

“We can decide that with time, I guess,” Gerard said. “Cause right now, it sounds too fucking good to say it’s not ok.”

With that, their kiss resumed, Frank walking Gerard around the coffee table and to the sofa. Gerard dropped down onto it when Frank pushed him forward, and didn’t have time to do anything, because Frank was on his lap the moment he was sat down. With his knees resting on either side of Gerard, Frank leaned down to kiss at Gerard’s neck. Gerard let his head fall back and Frank placed hungry kisses everywhere he could, nipping at Gerard’s ear lobe every few seconds just to hear him sigh loudly, just short of a moan.

Gerard suddenly tucked one of his hands behind Frank’s knee, and used the other to hold Frank’s hip, and shoved him to the side so that he was laying on the sofa, Gerard following to hover over him. Frank complied with the new position, tightening his legs around Gerard, keeping his body close. Gerard went for Frank’s mouth the same way Frank had attended to Gerard’s neck, busying himself with Frank’s lip ring when he noticed the reaction it pulled out of him.

They continued that way, alternating between positions, between lips-to-lips or lips-to-neck, until they were breathless. When they stopped, Frank was laying on top of Gerard, his head resting on Gerard’s heaving chest. Gerard was itching at Frank’s scalp with his fingertips, remembering how much Frank had enjoyed it that morning in bed.

They were both jolted out of their hazy state with a loud buzzing from the pocket of the hoodie Gerard was wearing. Frank pushed himself up with one hand and used the other to pull the cell phone out of Gerard’s pocket. He handed it to Gerard, who gave him a small smile, before answering.

“Hey, Mikes,” he greeted his brother, already having seen his name before he pressed the answer button. Gerard held his arm out, signaling for Frank to lay back down, so he did, going right back into their comfortable position.

Frank was mindlessly drawing patterns with his index finger on the front of Gerard’s hoodie, feeling his own breath against his hand as he did so. Gerard’s voice was humming through his chest and Frank could feel it against his cheek.

“Oh, you needed me to pick you up?...Yeah, I’m still here…Ok, I’ll leave right now...Bye.”

“Mikey needs me to pick him up from work,” Gerard sighed after hanging up. If he could have stayed the way he and Frank were for the entire day, or maybe forever, he would have done it.

“Oh, yeah, you didn’t go into work today,” Frank noted, pushing himself up and off of Gerard and the sofa.

“Yeah, Mikey gave them an excuse,” Gerard said, also standing up. “What about you?”

“Just hoping the boss won’t notice,” Frank shrugged.

Gerard nodded and then went into the bedroom to change back into his clothes. Frank waited on the sofa until Gerard emerged out of the room, dressed in the work clothes he had arrived in the night before. Frank stood up and walked with him to the door, even though it was only feet away from where he had been sitting.

“So, uh, text me or call me, whichever…alright?” Gerard grunted while he bent over to put his shoes on.

“Yeah,” Frank said, leaning against the doorway. “Come see me after work whenever you have time. Or even, I don’t know, take your lunch break there, if you want? I dunno…”

Gerard stood up once his shoes were on, beaming at Frank so that his eyes shrunk considerably.

“You want me to?” Gerard asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. Just like Frank was getting used to things being new, Gerard was, too.

“Yeah, of course,” Frank nodded.

“I will.”

Frank opened the door for Gerard, and with a few quick kisses, they said their goodbyes, and Frank was alone again. Frank shut the door and then sank into the sofa, where the events that passed truly sank in. That was the problem.

Once everything really rooted itself into reality, while he was there alone, everything only served as a seedling of pessimism, sprouting negative thoughts into his mind. Without Gerard there, without the comfort of his touches, kisses, and simply put, his presence, Frank was terrified again. He was terrified that there was someone out there, not beside him at that very second, who knew everything about what he’d experienced. Not only that, but he was terrified to realize that without Gerard there, he didn’t feel better at all. Opening up was supposed to be a sense of closure for the two of them, but Frank felt none. He felt no different. The past events still happened and still left a heavy load on his shoulders. Other than helping Gerard understand why he had been raped by Frank, opening up had done nothing for Frank. He was beyond glad to know that Gerard felt better, but he didn’t. An almost crippling disappointment surged through him. He didn’t have closure about what had happened to him. If he didn’t have that closure he had expected, he wondered if he really wouldn’t hurt Gerard again. The likelihood of him snapping again seemed very high.

Agitating fear boiled at the pit of his stomach, leaving him to be a mess only minutes after he had been all smiles in front of Gerard. He knew, with the infuriating thoughts, that he had no place to move on to even if he moved on with Gerard. He had to stick to what he knew. What he knew was in the fridge of his kitchen, and he had it in his hands just seconds later. A few bottles of beer, day on and day off, a pattern of his old life in which coping meant drinking instead of opening up. He chugged two and a half of them down in the middle of his kitchen, stopping when his throat was screaming for him to stop. He discarded the bottles in the sink, and then made his way back into the living room.

He began to feel lightheaded as the alcohol settled into his system. Slinking down into the sofa, he noticed his old notebook laying on the floor, having been looked at by Gerard and left aside during Frank’s reminiscing.

Frank was doubtful about everything he’d said to Gerard. He was doubtful about where he stood with Gerard. He was doubtful about what he was supposed to feel at that moment. He was doubtful of the intimate moments they had shared. He was doubtful of maintaining the consistency he was sure Gerard expected of him.

The beer had only dulled down the intensity of his uneasiness. It had not stopped his thoughts.


	46. Chapter 45: Weakening a Weakness

“Alright, what happened?” was the first thing Mikey said the moment he got into Gerard’s car. Gerard had already been well aware that Mikey would be ready with questions, so he prepared a quick and brief answer.

“I went to Frank’s to talk things out, he opened up to me about some stuff, we’re kind of at this weird we’re-gonna-figure-things-out-stage,” Gerard said, already pulling away from their workplace.

“You stayed the night,” Mikey said, no definitive tone in his statement. Gerard simply nodded. “So did you guys fuck?”

“Seriously, Mikey?” Gerard scoffed. “What kind of brother gets nosy about his brother’s sex life? It’s so not normal.”

“All brothers,” Mikey shrugged, “it’s actually pretty fucking normal. And that means you did. You usually just deny it, not get all defensive and shit.”

Gerard stared at Mikey for about two seconds before turning his attention back to the road, lips pursed and adamant on not adding anymore to Mikey’s theories. The silence lasted the entire car ride, being broken as they made their way to their apartment door.

“So what are you doing now?” Mikey asked, digging the keys out of his pocket.

“Getting into the apartment with you,” Gerard said simply.

“Stop being such a smart ass, Gerard,” Mikey sighed exasperatedly, stopping for a moment to turn and face Gerard.

Mikey wasn’t just worried, he was terrified. He was not ready to handle Gerard suffering the way he had before. Mikey wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines again; he would protect him. The guilt over what happened with Blake had not and will not die down. He had to continue protecting Gerard and being a lot more attentive than he was before. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t handle it, he knew _Gerard_ would be destroyed, and if Gerard was destroyed, he would be, too.

Somehow, all of Mikey’s fears were communicated to Gerard in that moment of them standing outside their apartment, staring right into each other’s eyes.

“I know you’re worried,” Gerard said, “but…I…it’s just Frank…he’s different.”

“Right,” Mikey rolled his eyes, unlocked the door, and stepped inside, Gerard right on his tail.

“He is, Mikey,” Gerard insisted. “He opened up to me this morning and told me all this shit about his past that you wouldn’t believe, and that’s my fucking proof that he won’t, you know, fuck me over or anything.”

Mikey took off his shoes, went into the kitchen to start the coffee, then went into his room to change, and Gerard was following him with every step.

“You don’t know what he’s been through but I can’t tell you, it’s not my secret to tell, but you just gotta trust me on this,” Gerard went on. “I just—I know this. I swear, I’ve never been this fucking sure, Mikey.”

“God, what bothers me,” Mikey huffed as he slipped a T-shirt on, “is that you won’t tell me what happened before. I just wanna know how bad that is.”

“It’s…it’s not my secret,” Gerard said, looking down at the floor. The rape was a distant memory that he sought to disassociate both himself and Frank from entirely.

“Apparently it involves you,” Mikey said, “so it is.”

“But to tell you I’d have to tell you stuff about Frank’s past,” Gerard shrugged, “so it’s not.”

“God, I hate secrets,” Mikey groaned, stepping around Gerard and back into the kitchen. Gerard, of course, followed.

“I’m sorry,” Gerard quickly said. He leaned against the counter while Mikey prepared them each a mug of coffee. “Please, Mikey? I need you to be alright with this. I can’t do shit when you’re not and you know it.”

Mikey stopped halfway through preparing one of the coffees, placing the spoon of sugar that he had scooped back into its container. He stared down at the counter, his face and eyes filled with worry.

“You’re too nice,” Mikey said, his eyes still trained on the coffee. “That’s your problem.”

Gerard couldn’t help the small smile that was twitching its way onto his face. Frank told him he was too nice just like Mikey did. The memory of being with Frank the night before and that morning made Gerard zone off into his own little world, only snapped back into reality by Mikey’s persistent eyes being turned to face him.

“People use that against you,” Mikey went on, not waiting for Gerard’s response. He had already finished preparing his coffee and was taking slow sips out of it. “You’re so nice that you don’t, like, see it when people use you.”

“But—”

“How do you know Frank won’t?” Mikey cut Gerard off; he already knew Gerard would say that “Frank wouldn’t.”

“He won’t,” Gerard answered simply. “He’s not like that.”

“You’ve known the guy for a few months, G,” Mikey mumbled into his coffee.

“Then I’ll stay and find out,” Gerard shrugged. Mikey opened his mouth to speak, but this time Gerard was the one to interrupt him. “I’m not gonna know until I give it a chance. I can’t fucking be scared of everyone I meet because of Blake, Mikey, I’m not gonna let him do that to me.”

“I’m not telling you to do that,” Mikey sighed, “I just want you to be more careful.”

“More like you want me to be fucking paranoid,” Gerard said, walking towards Mikey and taking the coffee that was behind him. He walked backwards to his place against the counter, facing his brother from across the small kitchen. “I’m not…I can’t…If I’m paranoid, I’m never gonna let anyone get close to me. I wanna move on from Blake, and Frank, even if he doesn’t work out, he’s the first step, you know? He’s the first person I, like, give a chance to and see what happens. If it doesn’t work, I move on. That’s how this goes, Mikey. I’m done with Blake, I’m not gonna let him affect me that much.” Mikey was just staring at Gerard, obviously repeating the words in his head and contemplating them. “Mikey,” Gerard sighed for the millionth time since they entered the apartment, “Blake fucking kept me away from people while I was with him, and you know that. I need to just…start over with what I want.”

“And that’s Frank,” Mikey said simply. “What you want is to start over with Frank.”

“Yes,” Gerard nodded.

“Fine,” Mikey groaned. “You’re such a stubborn bastard.”

Gerard’s smile appeared immediately on his face, and Mikey had to admit to himself that he was happy to see that smile again; it had been much too long since he had.

“You’re the fucking best!” Gerard squeaked, crossing the kitchen to give Mikey a one-armed hug, keeping their coffees safe.

“Duh, I know that already,” Mikey smiled right back at Gerard after pulling out of the hug. “I have one condition, though.”

“Shoot,” Gerard nodded.

“I get that you gotta keep Frank’s secrets and stuff,” Mikey explained, “but you just keep me up to date on shit without spilling secrets from now on. I won’t ask what happened before, but starting now.”

“Deal,” Gerard quickly agreed.

“Good.” Mikey left the kitchen and went into the living room, taking a seat on the sofa. Gerard followed, simply out of a desire to sit with Mikey, and not with the need to convince him of anything. “So,” Mikey said slowly, “he any good in bed?”

“Mikes!” Gerard blushed immediately, hiding half of his face with his coffee mug as he took a huge gulp out of it.

“Hey, you would brief me on every fucking girl I slept with,” Mikey said, pointing his skinny index finger at Gerard, “so I can do the same.”

“So not fair,” Gerard rolled his eyes.

“Completely fair. Now, come on, was it shit or was it good?”

Gerard sighed into his coffee, his breath flowing back into his face, but covered with the smell and heat of the coffee it had bounced off of.

“Amazing,” Gerard spoke quietly, most of his one-word answer getting lost in his cup. “Fucking amazing, I swear.”

“You’re fucking glowing,” Mikey noted, “ so I believe you…who fucked who?"

“Oh, God,” Gerard groaned. “Fuck no, Mikey, no way!”

Gerard didn’t even stay to protest. He got up, almost-empty coffee mug in hand, and marched off towards his room.

“You fucking asked me what position we were in when I lost my virginity!” Mikey called out after him. “You’re the one being unfair, asshole!”

Gerard had a smile on his face. He couldn’t stop. Everything felt so right. Even if he and Frank weren’t exactly a couple—or anything for that matter—he couldn’t shake the feeling of contentment and genuine happiness.

**

The next day, Frank was still nothing but a bottle of nerves. He found himself listening to his iPod more than usual, plugging his ears the moment he was awake enough to form any thoughts. He left the headphones in until he got the first customer at work, being forced to take them off and communicate with someone outside of his thoughts.

Frank felt confused. He was happy with how things were with Gerard, yet there was a nagging in the back of his mind that wouldn’t allow him to be entirely content. It wasn’t until about an hour before noon, when he received a text message, that his mood seemed to shift.

“Taking my lunch break with you…that ok?”

Frank smiled stupidly at the screen. It was a text from Gerard. No matter how much apprehension, anxiety, and doubt he had felt, it seemed to vanish with the happy anticipation of seeing Gerard in just a couple of hours.

“Sounds good,” was what Frank texted back, forcing his smile down to a simple smirk because he felt stupid having such a huge grin on his face.

The hours of waiting passed by more quickly than Frank thought they would. When he saw Gerard pull up outside of the store, Frank automatically brought a hand up to his hair, flattening it against his forehead, and was giving himself a mental chat to tone down his smile. He had on a straight face, until Gerard’s body approached the door, his head turned as he made sure his car was locked and armed. Frank’s face betrayed him enough to show a smirk.

Gerard walked into the store, a bag in one hand, and the other hand shoving his keys into his pocket. He smiled at Frank, shattering Frank’s smirk so that it turned into a matching grin. Gerard looked more proper than Frank usually saw him, since his work clothes and hair were still intact. All of his hair was brushed out of his face, smoothed back.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted, placing the bag on the counter in front of Frank. Gerard seemed to bounce on his feet while he thought something over. Before Frank could greet him as well and ask what was wrong, Gerard was walking around the counter. He glanced to the door, then back at Frank. Frank already knew what Gerard wanted, and he knew that desire wasn’t one-sided, so he helped accomplish it.

Frank was sitting in his chair, but twisted enough so that his lips could meet with Gerard’s when he finally reached him. The kiss was meant to be short and quick, but once Frank felt Gerard’s lips on his, he realized how much he’d missed them. He’d missed feeling physically close to Gerard even though it had only been a day. One of his hands quickly went up to Gerard’s cheek when he felt Gerard already pulling away, keeping him in place, deepening the kiss, giving his tongue a chance to run along Gerard’s bottom lip. Gerard wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, but he knew the two of them wouldn’t contain themselves if things went any further than they had. So once Frank’s tongue was back in Frank’s mouth, Gerard began pulling away. Frank had to contain himself from making grabby hands at Gerard as he retracted from the kiss.

“I made you lunch,” Gerard smiled, walking back around to the opposite side of the counter.

“Oh, fuck, no way,” Frank said, pulling the plastic container out of the bag. “You didn’t have to.”

“It’s nothing,” Gerard shrugged. “I usually make lunch for me and Mikey and there’s always extra, so I brought some for you.”

“This smells so fucking good,” Frank gushed, popping the container open. It was lasagna covered in more cheese than Frank would have thought possible to fit into one dish. “You know how much I love your food.”

“I do,” Gerard nodded, pulling another container out for himself. He also pulled out two forks and handed one to Frank. “I had to fight your plate away from Mikey ‘cause his skinny ass has the biggest appetite ever.”

“I don’t even blame him,” Frank shrugged, sticking a forkful of food into his mouth. He had to pause and groan at how good it tasted. “I would fight for extras, too.” Frank glanced over the counter at Gerard. “You want your chair?”

“Nah, I’m always sitting at work, I need some time to stand,” Gerard answered, inwardly smiling at the fact that Frank called it his chair. Frank nodded and went back to paying close attention to the food he was eating.

They ate their food in a strangely comforting silence. All they needed was one another’s presence. Whether they talked or not didn’t seem to matter too much.

Gerard finished his food first since he had given Frank a larger serving. He placed his empty container back in the bag and strolled around the aisles while Frank continued eating.

Frank would be lying if he thought for a second that he wasn’t staring at Gerard—at the way he walked, the way his hand would almost run back through his hair but stop short knowing he would mess it up, the way he would awkwardly hunch his neck down to look at things on the lower shelves instead of just bending over. Frank definitely wouldn’t be lying to himself, though, and he wouldn’t even be lying to Gerard, either. When Gerard glanced over at Frank, Frank continued staring, blinking a few times while he chewed his food, and then looking back down at his plate to get more. Gerard blushed and looked back to the CD’s in front of him, smiling at them like they had the eyes Frank had been using to look at him.

Gerard was about to strike up some random conversation when a woman walked into the store. She went straight for the magazine rack and then took a magazine to the register, not bothering to look at anything else in the store. Frank quickly moved his food out of the way before she reached him, and hurried through the transaction, subduing his grimace enough so that he had his lips in a straight line. Frank wasn’t one to judge people, but he couldn’t understand when people repeatedly visited the store without buying anything music-related.

Once the woman left, Frank let out a loud groan. “Fucking magazines,” he sighed. “Beauty magazines that have nothing to do with music. I will never understand why we have them here.”

“Or how singers are on the covers just to get attention,” Gerard added, going over to the rack that contained mostly magazines. “I don’t get it either.”

“I wish I owned this place so I could get rid of them,” Frank mumbled, turning his attention back to his lasagna.

“Why don’t you? I mean, can’t you open up a place yourself?” Gerard asked.

“I’ve never thought about that,” Frank shrugged. “It seems like a lot of work.”

“Dude, you pretty much run this place,” Gerard chuckled. “And I’m pretty sure you make a ton, and it doesn’t look like you spend much of what you make.”

“Good point,” Frank nodded. “I don’t know, I guess I could, but I just never thought about really doing it.”

“Imagine turning this place into, like, a local bands central type of thing,” Gerard mused, turning his back to the magazines so he could look around the store. “You could have just a shit load of local bands, even unsigned, and like get paid to help them advertise here. And, like, you know when you see a really good fucking band but they’re barely starting so you don’t find a lot of shit on them outside of their show? But then you could come here and actually find some of their shit, like demos or even merch.”

Frank stopped chewing to stare at Gerard and mull over every word he said. Gerard was still glancing around the store for a moment after he stopped talking, picturing what it would look like if Frank could accomplish something like that. Gerard glanced over at Frank, who had his eyes fixed on him.

“What?” Gerard asked, feeling embarrassed by the possibility of his idea sounding stupid and ridiculous.

“That’s a fucking amazing idea,” Frank said simply. “That’s…that’s _good_ , holy shit I can imagine it.”

“Really?” Gerard smiled.

“Fuck yeah,” Frank nodded. “I’m gonna seriously look into that.”

“You would actually consider doing it?” Gerard asked, proudly walking to the counter and standing across from Frank. He felt a sense of accomplishment at the way Frank seemed to not only consider, but actually love Gerard’s idea enough to want to pursue it.

“I _want_ to do it,” Frank stated. “That’s seriously one of the most amazing ideas…how the hell did you come up with that?”

“I dunno,” Gerard shrugged, looking down at the counter to hide his smile. “It was just a random idea, I didn’t think you’d like it that much.”

“It would probably take a lot of shit,” Frank began rattling his ideas off as he put his empty plastic container back into the bag Gerard had brought. “I would have to, like, get in touch with the right people, you know? And make some deals and contracts with some record labels here. Shit, I would even need to make some contracts for the unsigned guys. It would probably take a while to get shit done and actually get anything started and going, but holy shit, I really think it’s fucking possible.”

Now it was Gerard who stared, entranced by the way Frank’s excitement was so easily readable. His hands weren’t even gesticulating as much as they usually did, just waving around simply in front of him, but his eyes were not still for more than a second. He was imagining, in the same way Gerard had been, how the store would look if it was entirely up to him. He could feel the excitement bubbling up in his stomach, and Gerard could practically see it.

“You’re amazing,” Frank sighed, stopping his wandering eyes and focusing on Gerard instead. The words had spilled out of him without a thought behind them, and he looked down after he said it, embarrassed by the bluntness of his statement. “Uh, I meant, like, your idea…it was…it’s pretty fucking amazing.”

“Thanks,” Gerard giggled out that impossibly girlish laugh that always made Frank want to join him. “You don’t need to be so shy about complimenting me,” Gerard shrugged, “I know I’m amazing.”

Frank looked up at Gerard, scoffing playfully at first, but then smiling sincerely at him. He really didn’t have to be embarrassed by casual compliments like that. He supposed those were part of the new honest-and-open thing that Frank was trying to implement with Gerard.

“You are, though,” Frank said.

“You are, too,” Gerard blushed, forcing himself to keep looking at Frank instead of looking down.

Frank glanced over Gerard’s shoulder a couple of times, spotting a few people passing by the store on the sidewalk.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed, hopping off of his chair, “when do you have to go back to work?”

Gerard pursed his lips and pulled his phone out to look at the time. “I should head out in, like, five minutes.”

“Five minutes,” Frank repeated. He walked away from his chair and towards the employee lounge in the back. “Follow me.”

“What?” Gerard asked, while already doing what Frank said and following him. Frank had opened the employee lounge and stepped in, leaving the door wide open. Gerard didn’t need to ask any other questions, because the moment he stepped into the lounge, Frank had pulled him aside and answered all his questions with his open mouth.

Frank had his own back against the wall, and was holding Gerard’s body against his by the front of his jacket, while he licked into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard was quick to gather himself. He pulled Frank’s hands off the front of his jacket and pressed them back against the wall so that he could fully press his body against Frank’s, leaving little to no space between the two of them. Frank groaned and forced his hands out of Gerard’s grip, moving them over to the back of Gerard’s neck, resisting the urge to ruff up Gerard’s perfectly combed hair. Gerard’s hands dropped to Frank’s hips, hauling Frank’s ass just slightly off the wall so that he could feel Frank’s crotch roll against his thigh.

“Fuck,” Frank sighed, pulling his mouth away with a sloppy sound. His mouth dropped to Gerard’s neck, nosing Gerard’s collar out of the way, so he could kiss near his collar bone. He spoke breathily between the opened mouthed kisses he was placing against Gerard’s neck. “It’s fucking hard…watching you, talking…you and your fucking _ideas_ …just being there and not…not touching you or kissing you…it’s fucking _hard_.”

Gerard only managed to groan in response, lost in the numbing sensations that Frank’s lips and breaths were causing against his neck. Frank was rolling his hips onto Gerard’s thigh, making it hard to actually focus on kissing Gerard’s neck. He paused for a moment to hitch up one of his legs—the leg that was between Gerard’s—making Gerard’s groan turn into an obvious moan. Frank smirked and went back to working his tongue up and down the side of Gerard’s neck.

“Five minutes,” Gerard gasped. “Can’t fucking do shit in five minutes.”

Frank threw his head back at the truth of that statement. They didn’t have time to do anything other than rile themselves up the they were, so he stopped his hips and thigh from moving, and just stood there, his head against the wall, and Gerard’s body against his.

“Tonight?” Gerard asked, dropping his forehead to Frank’s shoulder. “Wanna continue tonight?”

“Fuck _yes_ ,” Frank answered without letting Gerard even finish the entire question.

“Mikey’s going out with Alicia, I’ll pick you up and we’ll go to my place,” Gerard said.

“Ok,” Frank nodded. “Ok,” he said again, reassuring himself that he was okay to stand on his own.

Gerard pulled away from him, and Frank luckily succeeded in standing straight with neither Gerard’s nor the wall’s help. Just then, he heard the bell above the door ring, announcing someone’s entrance to the store. Frank sighed and slid out from between Gerard and the wall, and out of the lounge. He needed to make sure the store was being properly watched and he also needed to get away from Gerard before he lost the self-control to resist his urges.

While Frank waited patiently for the man who had entered to browse the CD’s, he avoided making eye contact with Gerard, who was leaning casually against the entrance to the lounge. The man ended up buying two vinyl records of a band that Frank didn’t know much about. When he left, Gerard gathered his things.

“So, I’ll pick you up after work?” Gerard asked, standing across the counter, and holding the plastic bag to his side.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “That-yeah-good, that sounds good.”

Gerard left without kissing Frank goodbye and they both knew why. They wouldn’t be able to handle a “simple” kiss without pursuing more. They were flustered enough.

Frank sank back into his chair and breathed through the oncoming anxiety of being alone again. It felt the same as the night before. He felt genuinely happy when Gerard was near him, but as soon as he left, Frank sank back into his old state of emptiness and pessimism. He hated to think that his mind and body were both already that dependent on Gerard, yet he couldn’t do much to deny it.

It was strange how his weakness the night before had become his negative mind, and his tendency to overthink anything and everything. That afternoon, though, Gerard had proven to be the weakness to that. Being in Gerard’s presence refrained Frank from drifting into his own mind. He couldn’t think about anything other than being around Gerard, talking to Gerard, what Gerard was saying. Nothing else mattered when Gerard was around.


	47. Chapter 46: Benefits of Patience

Frank was ready to go about half an hour before closing time. The last couple of hours were usually useless anyways, considering that he didn’t get a lot of customers. When he saw Gerard’s car pull up just outside of the door, he all but ran outside, haphazardly locking the door behind him.

Frank reached Gerard just as he was about to step out of the car, the door open and just one foot on the curb. Frank bent over and pressed a firm kiss to Gerard’s lips. Gerard made a surprised noise behind his shut mouth, which had Frank wondering why Gerard’s lips were still closed.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and it took Frank about two nudges of his tongue against Gerard’s lips to realize that the throat clearing was not coming from himself or Gerard. So he quickly retracted and was too scared to actually look further into the car.

“Uh…” Gerard’s mouth was hanging open, staring up at Frank. “Mikey, uh, he needed me to drop him off at Alicia’s, so…”

“Mikey,” Frank sighed, looking past Gerard’s face and seeing Mikey looking bored in the passenger seat. Frank’s hand twitched with the desire to smack his own forehead. “Sorry, uh, hey.”

Mikey gave Frank a small wave and something resembling a smile, except that it simply looked like he was tightening his lips together more than anything.

Frank gathered himself enough to step back and away from Gerard, and to the back door of the car, abashedly getting into the back seat. He felt so embarrassed to have jumped at Gerard like that while Mikey was there, and then nerves accompanied his embarrassment while he wondered how much Mikey knew about Frank and Gerard together. He sank further and further down into his seat the more he thought about how stupid he must have looked.

Neither of the brothers spoke for the short ride to Alicia’s home, so Frank didn’t either. It made the entire ride even more awkward. When they finally arrived to Alicia’s home, Mikey broke the silence.

“Can you come in really quick, Gerard? Alicia wants to say hey,” Mikey said, just before jumping out of the car and not speaking another word to Gerard, or any first words to Frank.

“Uh, Frank, you wanna come—” Gerard had begun to ask, twisting his body so he good look at Frank.

“Gerard,” Frank groaned, “he obviously just wants to see you alone.”

“What? Why? How’d you know?”

“Because he didn’t say ‘oh hey you guys should come in really quick,’” Frank explained, looking out the window at Mikey who was lingering by the door. “He said Gerard.”

Gerard pursed his lips like he was thinking it over, oblivious to the negative vibe that Frank could feel radiating off of Mikey the entire time. Mikey usually made some sort of effort to converse with Frank. The last time they’d seen each other, though, things were not going well in any of their lives, and Frank still had no idea how much Mikey had found out since Gerard left Frank’s place.

“Come on, he’s waiting,” Frank said, nodding his head at the window.

Gerard turned to look in the same direction and saw Mikey standing by the door, not having knocked on the door yet, his tall figure barely made the visible by the dim porch light.

“So weird,” Gerard sighed. “Ok, I’ll be right back.”

Gerard unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition and the car still running. Frank sighed and leaned his elbow against the car door so he could rest his face in his hand. He stared at Gerard while he approached Mikey, wishing he could read lips because Mikey was already saying something to Gerard before he actually reached him. Gerard had his arms crossed, but Frank could only see his back so he couldn’t read his expression. He couldn’t read Mikey’s at all.

Mikey was gesturing slightly with his hands, while Gerard’s strangely remained crossed the entire time. The only movement came from his feet as they shifted every once in a while. A few short moments later, he turned and headed towards the direction of the car, while Mikey turned to knock on the front door. Gerard didn’t go in to see Alicia, which meant that Mikey had obviously used that as a cover to talk to Gerard alone and nothing more. Frank could have guessed that already, but he kind of wished—for no reason in particular—that Mikey made an effort to hide that fact just a little better.

Connections were being made in Frank’s head about why Mikey acted so hostile towards him and why he wanted to talk to Gerard alone. Every connection ended with the same conclusion: Mikey hated Frank. The only missing piece was why, considering that Frank knew nothing of how much Mikey knew.

Frank managed to cram all these thoughts through his head just before Gerard got in the car.

“You can get in the front if you want,” Gerard said, smiling over his shoulder at Frank, sounding like there was no issue at all.

Frank nodded. He got out of the backseat, thankful that Mikey was already inside so he didn’t have to make any sort of awkward eye contact with him, and walked around to the passenger seat.

“Is everything okay?” Frank asked while they pulled away from Alicia’s home.

“Yeah, fine, why?” Gerard asked.

“Mikey seemed…off,” Frank spoke slowly. “I’m guessing he’s not cool with, you know, this.” Frank was using his hand to gesture between himself and Gerard.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Gerard shrugged. “Protective younger brother, you know? He’s been like that since he found out all the stuff with, like, Blake and all.”

“Oh,” Frank nodded, “right, that makes sense. So, it’s not…you know…me, exactly? It’s just a general thing?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “It’s just that. No worries.”

“Ok, good,” Frank nodded again. “Cause I fucking kissed you in front of him…” Frank shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, sighing loudly at the embarrassment running through him again. “So fucking awkward.”

“Yeah,” Gerard laughed, “next time I’ll warn you when he’s around. But at least you didn’t, like, whip your dick out and dry hump me on the seat.”

“Oh, I was tempted, trust me,” Frank said, his expression serious, because he was serious. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice throughout the day.

Gerard smirked at him, knowing that Frank was most definitely serious. The rest of the ride was silent, though not as silently tense as the ride with Mikey.

Frank was just about to get out of the car once they were parked in the apartment complex, but Gerard suddenly grabbed his arm.

“Uh, hold on,” Gerard sighed, releasing Frank’s arm when he saw him settle back into his seat.

“What’s wrong?” Frank asked.

“Well, I, um,” Gerard mumbled through his teeth that were nibbling at his bottom lip. “I kind of…fuck.”

“What?” Frank asked again, growing concerned as his theories concerning Mikey began flying wildly through his mind again.

“I lied,” Gerard blurted out, coming out like a loud sigh since he was holding his breath.

“What? About what?”

“About Mikey,” Gerard spoke quickly. “He is being a protective dumb ass little brother, but it does kind of have to do with you…specifically. I just didn’t know how to tell you ‘cause you looked so fucking nervous and I felt bad. But I lied and now I feel bad about that, so…”

“So it is me,” Frank sighed, not sure how he felt about that. “Oh fuck _me_ , I kissed you in front of him!”

“Sorry,” Gerard mumbled, looking down at his lap. “I should have told you before.”

“Nah…well, I mean, yeah that would have been nice and helpful,” Frank shrugged, “but you don’t need to be sorry.”

Gerard looked up, feeling less nervous since he saw that Frank wasn’t angered by it. He just looked flustered and very confused.

“How much does he know?” Frank asked, this time being the one to keep his eyes down. “I can’t blame him for hating me if he knows what—”

“No, he doesn’t know that,” Gerard quickly said. “And he doesn’t hate you, either. He’s just…cautious.”

“So you didn’t tell him about…” Frank trailed off, not wanting to say the words exactly. He still had his eyes down.

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “At first, I just didn’t know _how_ to without him going crazy. And then the only way to not have him go crazy would have been to, like, explain what happened to you, you know? And I can’t do that. And you know what, I just think it’s better not to. Everything is a fresh start and telling Mikey would just take us back, you know?”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. He felt nauseous at just the thought of the subject matter. It still seemed entirely surreal. But it wasn’t. It had happened and it drove Frank crazy to know that it did. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…you know,” Frank shrugged, forcing himself to look up and catch Gerard’s eyes. “For what I did.”

“Frank, it’s behind us, you don’t need to—”

“I know,” Frank cut him off. “But I’m still sorry.”

“I know,” Gerard nodded, reaching over and placing a hand over Frank’s. “I know you are.”

Frank allowed Gerard to hold his hand, and he squeezed right back. He wouldn’t let himself linger too long in his regrets, because he knew it was best for both he and Gerard to move on from the past.

“So…why me then?” Frank asked. “Why does Mikey not like me if he doesn’t know?”

“I guess it’s ‘cause he doesn’t know,” Gerard shrugged. “You wanna talk inside? It’s getting cold.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Frank nodded, having forgotten they had an apartment they could go in.

“So, yeah, Mikey’s bothered ‘cause he doesn’t know anything,” Gerard continued as they walked up the stairs together. “We talked about it yesterday and he was telling me how he’s worried and paranoid since he doesn’t know what happened between us. It just seemed like it was him being worried generally, but we agreed yesterday to just let it be. I told him I was happy with this and that I trusted you and he said ok. But then today, I guess, I don’t know, he found a reason to complain to me.”

“What do you mean?” Frank asked.

“Like, ok, even if we agreed to just let things between me and you play out, I think he’s just waiting for a reason to be like ‘oh hey I found something I don’t like about Frank’ so he can, I don’t know, back up his paranoia, or something?” Gerard attempted to explain while he unlocked the apartment door. They both stepped inside and Frank followed Gerard into the kitchen.

“So what’s the ‘something’ that he found?” Frank asked, leaning against the counter while Gerard rummaged through the fridge. He forced himself to stare at the tile of the floor so that he didn’t stare at the better sight of Gerard bending over to look for something in the fridge.

“That you kissed me,” Gerard said simply, standing back up with two sodas in his hand. He handed one to Frank then opened his own soda and leaned against the fridge.

“I am fucking stupid,” Frank groaned.

“No, you’re not,” Gerard laughed. “He’s stupid for choosing that as his reason.”

“Does he, like, not want me to do anything with you?” Frank inquired, pressing his lips in a thin line. “That’s a fucking hard request.”

“Tell me about it,” Gerard laughed again. “But I think he just doesn’t like it since we’re not, well, defined?”

“He thinks we need to be in a relationship to do anything,” Frank stated, holding the soda in one hand and running his fingers over the opening.

“Kind of,” Gerard shrugged, taking a sip out of his soda.

“Kind of?” Frank inquired.

“He, well, I don’t want you to overthink it,” Gerard said, occupying his eyes with the small drop of soda that was left on the mouth of his can. Frank just stared at Gerard and waited for him to continue. Gerard sighed and went on: “He thinks you’re using me. Like, you’re not interested in a relationship, you just wanna…do stuff.”

Frank’s eyes widened and then he just stared at Gerard, blinking while the words processed in his mind. He couldn’t believe that that’s what things looked like to Mikey. Of course that wasn’t it. He would never use Gerard like that.

“I don’t think that, though!” Gerard quickly exclaimed, sensing Frank’s shock. “I know that’s not it!”

“I wouldn’t…” Frank began, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do—”

“Oh my God, Frank, I know,” Gerard interrupted. He quickly crossed the kitchen so that he was standing in front of Frank. He left his soda on the counter and brought a hand up to Frank’s cheek, holding his face up so that they held each other’s gaze. “Mikey doesn’t know you. I do.”

Frank couldn’t even think anymore. With Gerard standing that close to him, his hand on Frank’s cheek, his eyes staring into Frank’s with an intensity that left Frank feeling boneless. All of it left Frank breathless and speechless.

Gerard smiled at Frank and used his free hand to take the soda out of Frank’s hand and put it aside on the counter. His hand that was on Frank’s cheek slid slowly until it was massaging gently at the back of Frank’s scalp. Frank’s eyes fluttered shut at the soothing feeling.

“This is like your weakness, isn’t it?” Gerard giggled, putting his other hand to the back of Frank’s head as well, gently running his fingers through Frank’s hair.

“Oh, fuck off,” Frank sighed, nodding nonetheless.

“It’s kind of hot,” Gerard shrugged, allowing his fingernails to lightly scrape against Frank’s scalp.

Frank stepped forward just as Gerard was pulling, bringing Frank closer to him. Their mouths met, open, ready, and hungry. The yearning that had been present throughout the day showed itself through the messy movements of their tongues against one another.

Frank was debating between stepping back and allowing Gerard’s body to pin his against the counter, or walking forward and finding a place to lay Gerard down and move things along. His hands clung to Gerard’s hips, unsure of what his mind would decide.

Gerard ended up making the decision for Frank, leaving one hand in Frank’s hair, and the other pulling at Frank’s shoulder, clumsily moving them out of the kitchen. Frank was too busy occupying his mouth on Gerard’s neck to pay attention to where they were walking. He trusted Gerard to get them where they needed to go, which wasn’t so smart considering how clouded Gerard’s head was at the moment. Gerard ended up running into a wall, his back colliding with it.

“Ow,” he groaned.

Frank laughed and pulled his mouth away from Gerard’s neck.

“So you’re shit at multi-tasking, huh?” Frank chuckled.

“Like you’re any better,” Gerard retorted. “Can we pause and get into the fucking room?”

“Yes,” Frank nodded, “definitely.”

Gerard took Frank’s hand and they managed to keep the rest of their bodies off of each other until Gerard led them into a room. As soon as they stepped through the door and Frank caught sight of a bed, he spun Gerard around, and pushed him onto it, climbing onto him.

“God, I’ve been waiting all fucking day,” Frank sighed, leaning down to kiss at Gerard’s lips, his jaw, his neck, and everywhere he could manage. Gerard let out an approving moan, tingling sensations running through his entire body. Frank’s hips were sat still above Gerard’s, and Gerard sought to change that. He grabbed Frank’s hips through the thick barrier of denim and pulled them slightly, hoping Frank would catch the point. Frank smirked against Gerard’s neck, sensing his desperation, and choosing to continue the movement of his mouth alone.

“Frank,” Gerard whined, already feeling the teasing smirk of Frank’s lips against his neck.

Frank responded by grazing his teeth over Gerard’s ear lobe, which cause Gerard’s hips to automatically buck up and get himself what he was trying to force Frank to start.

“Fuck,” Gerard sighed, turning his head to catch Frank’s lips with his own.

Frank’s hips complied, now seeking to get friction as well, grinding down and hard into Gerard’s bucking hips.

He got lost in it for a moment, his lips ceasing all movement and just panting into Gerard’s mouth. Gerard took control and advantage of the situation, quickly flipping them over so that he was on top. He situated himself between Frank’s legs, and pressed his crotch into Frank’s, the frustration of the lack of skin contact only strengthening the sensations.

“Ah, I need-you need,” Frank gasped, his hands clutching at the front of Gerard’s sweater. “Pants,” he panted, “off.”

Gerard nodded hurriedly, pressing his body down against Frank’s, gliding his tongue up Frank’s neck, before sitting back up. He was still settled comfortably between Frank’s legs. He unzipped Frank’s sweater, and before he could go to take it off, Frank was already half sitting up so that he could shrug the sweater off. And while he was half off his back, he also took the opportunity to pull his shirt up and off, collapsing back into the bed.

Gerard ran his hands up Frank’s stomach, chest, and then back down, running his hand teasingly over Frank’s hardened crotch. Frank’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth, staring up at Gerard, whose hair was hanging in his face, shielding his eyes that were focused on the task at hand.

He pressed his palm down against Frank’s obvious jeans-covered erection, and dragged his eyes up to look at Frank’s face. Frank, though, was forced to look away, his neck arching and his eyes shutting tight. His hips rolled into the press of Gerard’s palm, and his own hands searched for something to grab onto. His fingers scraped over the sheets below him and his hand hit something solid. Somehow, his brain still functioned enough to turn his head to look for what his hand had hit. He saw what was obviously Mikey’s bass resting on the pillows of the bed.

“Gerard,” Frank groaned, his hips still subconsciously moving as Gerard’s hand was now massaging the bulge in his pants. “Are we-is this…uhh…”

Frank couldn’t speak with Gerard’s hand working his dick the way it was, even with the divider of clothes remaining between their skin.

“Hm?” Gerard simply said in response, smiling at the affect he was having on Frank. Gerard was desperately wanting some friction of his own, but watching the way Frank completely lost it with Gerard simply touching him was too entrancing for Gerard to think of anything else.

“Are we in Mikey’s room?” Frank finally gritted out, his eyes still locked on the bass.

“What?” Gerard asked, looking up at Frank’s face. He saw where Frank was looking. “Oh, no, no, ew I wouldn’t do that.” Gerard laughed and leaned over to pick up Mikey’s bass. He grabbed it by the neck and dragged it off of the pillows, gently placing it on the floor. He then turned his attention back to Frank. “I was just using the bass the other day.”

“Oh, ok,” Frank nodded, “just making sure.”

“Fucking you on my brother’s bed is not a kink I’m into,” Gerard chuckled, resettling comfortably on his knees between Frank’s bent legs.

He ran his palms from Frank’s knees, up his thighs, and over his crotch. Gerard quickly undid Frank’s button and zipper, and shrugged Frank’s pants down just slightly, giving his hand enough to access to run over Frank’s boxers. Frank groaned loudly, one of his arms flying up to his face, covering his already shut eyes.

“Gerard,” Frank moaned, and Gerard took his name as an urge to go on, so he did, but not all the way. He stuck his fingers teasingly through the opening in the boxers, finally making contact with Frank’s dick. “Fucking…Gerard…”

“Yeah?” Gerard sighed, wound up by Frank’s reactions to everything he did. He felt like he could get off just by getting Frank off.

“I just-can you-fuck,” Frank rambled on, every word backed by a moan since Gerard’s fingers were gingerly running over whatever part of Frank’s dick they could get to. “I’m trying to…talk…”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, not understanding where Frank was going.

“I can’t fucking focus on anything with your hand on my dick,” Frank finally gritted out.

“Oh,” Gerard glanced down at his hand, and back up at Frank; he was breathing heavily, waiting for Gerard to move his hand.

“Fuck, you fucking throw me off,” Frank sighed when Gerard finally moved his hand.

“You don’t make it easy to resist, you know,” Gerard shrugged, smiling down at Frank’s body. It took all his self-control not to force his hand back into Frank’s underwear. The way Frank’s shirtless chest was still heaving up and down as he regained his breath, and his back wasn’t completely flat against the bed, still slightly tensed and arched up from earlier.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Frank mumbled, bringing his other arm up to his face, crossing them so that his face was entirely covered, leaving only his mouth. “We…we shouldn’t do this.”

Gerard swallowed, suddenly nervous at the way Frank was speaking.

“Do what?” Gerard asked slowly.

“I think,” Frank paused and moved his arms off his face. “Can you, just…move away from my dick ‘cause it’s not done wanting you and you being close isn’t helping?”

“Oh,” Gerard said, just slightly comforted by the mention of Frank still “wanting him.” Gerard moved away from between Frank’s legs, awkwardly crawling over one of Frank’s thigh so that he could sit next to him on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that I’m a dumb ass that’s totally thinking about your brother while we’re minutes away from fucking,” Frank stated in one breath. Gerard was sitting up, his knees hugged to his chest, and Frank still lay there, pants undone and erection obvious.

Gerard couldn’t help but snort at that. “Sorry, my brother isn’t gay,” Gerard laughed.

“Oh, God, shut up,” Frank groaned, smiling through his complaints. He swatted a hand playfully in Gerard’s direction, missing completely. He wasn’t actually aiming, though, his eyes locked on the ceiling. “I was thinking about what he said…that maybe he, I don’t know, has a point…kind of.”

“He has a point about you using me?” Gerard questioned, tilting his head down to look at Frank.

“No, definitely not that,” Frank said. He kept his eyes trained on the ceiling so that he wouldn’t back out of being straightforward with Gerard about his thoughts. “His main point, I think, is that we shouldn’t be doing shit if we’re not, you know, a thing?”

“Why not?”

“I couldn’t form a fucking sentence when your hand was on my dick,” Frank said simply. “It’s kind of a distraction.”

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, “good point. But what’s it, like, distracting us from?”

“Everything,” Frank sighed, finally letting his head fall to the side so that his eyes met with Gerard’s. “We’re supposed to be figuring shit out, but we can’t think about this if we’re, you know…”

Gerard got the point. And it made sense. Knowing he had full access to Frank’s body was definitely a distracting thought and disabled any other thoughts of his from functioning. Knowing they had to wait would push that thought aside so that they could really think about themselves, individually and together.

“You care that much?” Gerard smiled down at Frank. “You wanna stop fooling around because that’s how much you wanna figure stuff out with us?”

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged like it was an obvious matter. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“No reason,” Gerard shook his head. “It’s gonna be kind of hard, you know…”

“I know,” Frank groaned. “I fucking know. I’m just…I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I still get fucking paranoid thinking about what’s gonna happen with us, like I don’t know what to do with it. I don’t have shit figured out and just hooking up is not a good fucking idea ‘cause it makes figuring shit out so much harder. I don’t wanna make you wait like that…fuck, it’s really selfish, huh? I swear, Gerard, you can move on you know. You can go ahead and find someone who already has their shit figured out. You don’t need—”

Suddenly, Gerard was leaning over Frank, his chest just barely hovering over Frank’s and Frank stared up at him with wide eyes.

“A kiss until next time?” Gerard breathed, his hot breath hitting Frank’s lips, his mouth already salivating with a nagging desire. He didn’t say anything else regarding the rambling that Frank had done.

Frank nodded, already lifting his neck up to meet Gerard’s lips like they had some inherent magnet to his own. When their lips met, they kept it chaste and quick, only moving together without adding their tongues to the equation. When they pulled away, they were panting as though they had had the most heated make-out of their lives.

“I’m gonna miss that,” Frank sighed.

“Just make your thoughts quick,” Gerard smiled. “I’ll be waiting.”


	48. Chapter 47: Cover Up

Frank lay on Gerard’s bed still. He had begrudgingly adjusted his pants and zipper back into place. His shirt and sweater were still discarded somewhere he wasn’t aware of. He needed a moment to cool off and extra articles of clothing would not help in the matter. He had one arm slung over his eyes and the other casually resting on the bed, not too far from where Gerard sat.

Just minutes ago, Frank had said, “Talk to me about something—anything. I gotta get my mind off of what I wanna be doing to you right now.”

“You know, it’s hard for me, too, asshole,” Gerard laughed.

“Yeah, but you talk more,” Frank said simply, dropping his head to the side to look at him.

Gerard pursed his lips for a moment, debating whether or not he should try to argue, but there really was no argument in his favor when it came to him talking a lot. “Ok, fine, that makes sense,” he gave in. So Gerard talked, and he wasn’t the only one to talk. He simply began a conversation and Frank joined him. It proved to be the perfect distraction for them both. Now that Frank lay with his arm over his face, he was intently listening to the story ideas Gerard was rattling off to him.

“It’s about a man and a woman, you know? And, I’m thinking, they both die, or maybe just the guy dies but he thinks the woman dies, too—I dunno, but main point is, the guy dies. So, the guy goes to hell and, like, makes a deal with the devil that if he brings him the souls of a thousand evil men, he can be reunited with the woman.”

Frank had thrown his arm over his face just minutes into his chain of conversation with Gerard because he found that the way in which Gerard talked—animatedly, with hand gestures and facial expressions that told a story entirely on their own—was no aid to their plan to distract each other.

“Is he able to do it?” Frank asked, sliding his arm up to his forehead so he could take a look at Gerard, whose eyes were locked on Frank’s upper body. Frank noticed and thought that it would take Gerard a while to answer since he was obviously still distracted.

“Yeah, kind of,” Gerard answered, not missing a beat, even though his eyes still lingered on Frank’s body. “He’s able to bring the devil nine hundred ninety-nine of the souls he wants, and he just needs one more, but the devil tells him there’s only one more evil soul that he needs.”

“It’s his,” Frank gasped, as if he was reading the story at that very moment.

“Yeah,” Gerard smiled proudly, finally glancing up at Frank’s face. “I’ve had this whole concept in my head for a while, but I just randomly got the idea for the ending a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, man, that sounds good,” Frank mused. “So, what happens to the chic he was with?”

“She gets reunited with him,” Gerard shrugged.

“But, the devil has his soul.”

“So, he’s stuck in hell, right?” Gerard asked.

Frank nodded.

“So, he’s stuck in hell with her,” Gerard explains. “He gets to be reunited with her, but they’re just in hell together. Suffering together forever. That’s where I’m kind of stuck, though, ‘cause if she’s still alive, he technically fucked up her life to bring her to hell with him. If she’s dead, then whatever, at least they suffer together. But, I think I’m gonna make it so that she’s alive, ‘cause imagine the feelings behind that. He’s gonna be guilty, she’s just gonna be confused. Yeah, I think I’m gonna go with that.”

“I like that,” Frank nodded. “That’s really fucking good. Damn, you really need to start on this shit, I wanna read it.”

“I suck at starting shit,” Gerard said, idly running his finger over the sheets of the bed, just inches away from Frank’s arm. Gerard’s eyes ran over Frank’s tattooed arm, resting not too far from him. He looked closely at all the tattoos that covered his arm, interwoven, making it hard to look at each tattoo individually. Something caught Gerard’s eyes, though. Something that wasn’t part of the tattoos and something he hadn’t noticed before. “What’s that?”

Gerard had placed a finger on Frank’s arm, but Frank still had to glance down to see which tattoo he was pointing at. Gerard’s finger was placed over the human heart with a knife through it that Frank had tattooed on the inner part of his forearm, but he knew right away what Gerard was really asking him about. It was one of the many faint scars that littered the inner part of his left arm. They were hard to spot with all the tattoos, blending well with the ink and not having scarred enough to damage the colors. If one took the time to look closely Frank’s arm—like Gerard had done—the scars became a little more obvious.

Frank tried to think of what to say. He could have answered with a literal answer, and told Gerard that he was pointing at a tattoo, but all he managed was a simple, “It’s nothing,” as he sat himself up and off the bed. Being cagey was a skill he believed he had mastered before he met Gerard, so he would try and revisit his old habits to get out of having this specific conversation with Gerard.

While Frank searched around the room for his shirt and sweater, Gerard just stared at him. It scared him to see Frank being so evasive because it was an uncomfortable throwback to the way things used to be between them. He didn’t want that. He wanted to maintain the openness and comfort that they had been developing.

“Uh, Frank?” Gerard’s voice came out soft and timid and it stirred the guilt in Frank’s stomach.

“Just an old scar, Gerard,” Frank said, still avoiding Gerard’s eyes. He found his shirt on the floor at the foot of the bed and bent over to get it. When he stood back up and slipped it on, Gerard had scooted over to the end of the bed. He sat with his legs hanging off the side and reached over and pulled Frank close to him.

“It’s not,” Gerard said simply, holding Frank’s wrists so that he wouldn’t try and move again. The shirt he had on was short-sleeved so Gerard was still able to see Frank’s arms. “You’re being weird.”

Frank let out a loud sigh and let his arms hang limp at his sides. Gerard still kept a firm grip on his wrists and was looking up at Frank, whose head was turned to the side.

“Frank, come on, we talk to each other now, right?” Gerard said and it killed Frank how scared he sounded. Just as Frank still doubted himself and his consistency, Gerard would do the same every time Frank took even the smallest of steps backwards.

That was what Frank was scared of. The fact that Gerard was so attached to him, and vice versa, made it so easy for Frank to ruin everything between them if he at any point couldn’t handle the open advancements that they were making. He sensed it. Gerard sensed it. Frank could ruin the two of them. He wasn’t ready for that pressure and that was why he wasn’t ready to have an actual relationship with Gerard yet. That was why he still needed to figure things out.

At the moment, though, he just had to figure out whether or not he could be honest with Gerard about the scars on his arm.

“Frank?” One of Gerard’s hands was now on Frank’s shoulder.

Frank took a deep breath, his chest heaving with it, and then released it with a loud sigh. “Sorry,” Frank spoke, his voice just short of being a whisper. He still had his face turned away from Gerard.

“Can you just…talk to me, or something?” Gerard asked, trying to smile, and letting out a nervous sigh of his own. “You’re freaking me out, to be honest.”

“I know,” Frank sighed again. He turned to face Gerard. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Gerard dropped his gaze from Frank’s and his hand from his shoulder in order to look closely at Frank’s arms. He pulled them closer to himself and found that Frank’s right arm was clear of scars, but the scar on his left arm wasn’t the only one. There were about three thick, long, and jagged scars running crookedly down Frank’s inner arm towards his wrist. Gerard brought Frank’s arm even closer and found that smaller and much less visible scars also littered the same area. They were all vertical, though. Gerard couldn’t even count them. They were each small, but very much present.

“I didn’t know you…” Gerard began, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, no wonder you got uncomfortable, I know you probably don’t feel comfortable talking about it. I just didn’t think you-you did something like this.”

Frank stared down at Gerard with furrowed eyebrows and it took a few seconds for him to understand what Gerard was implying.

“No, no, it’s not like that,” Frank shook his head. “I don’t cut myself, Gerard.”

Gerard’s eyes snapped up to Frank’s. He searched Frank’s eyes for any sort of dishonesty, but he looked entirely sincere.

“So what are these?” Gerard asked. “Why’d you run away when I asked about them?”

Frank brought his right hand up to Gerard’s neck and dropped his forehead to Gerard’s. It was so difficult to resist this physical closeness because of the comfort it always brought to any situation.

“I’m sorry about that,” Frank spoke softly. “I know you don’t like when I get like that.”

“I just don’t wanna go back to how we were,” Gerard shrugged, his hand slipping from Frank’s wrist and into his hand.

“I know,” Frank nodded, standing up straight. If he stayed that close to Gerard, he wouldn’t be able to stick to the agreement they had just made. Gerard released his hand and he took a seat on the bed next to him. “I just...I don’t know, being open and shit, it’s all new to me.”

“I know, I get it,” Gerard nodded. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to talk to me, I just want you to feel comfortable, you know? I want us to be able to talk about anything.”

“So do I,” Frank smiled and that always inevitably caused Gerard to smile right back. “I’m getting used to it.”

“Can you talk about them?” Gerard asked. “The scars?”

Frank took to scratching the back of his neck, as he always did when he grew nervous. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I guess. I mean, you deserve to know. I, uh…it happened the night after you…after I did what I did…to you.”

Frank was swallowing after every pause and it reminded Gerard of the day that Frank opened up about his past. He had looked so vulnerable while retelling such painful memories, so Gerard did what he had done that day. He took a hold of Frank’s hand and gave him a comforting squeeze.

Frank had to contain a laugh when he felt Gerard’s hand wrap around his. Gerard was comforting him when the memory had to be ten times worse for Gerard than it was for Frank. Frank had forced Gerard to suffer both mentally and physically while Frank only suffered mentally. The physical pain he gave himself that day was not near what he deserved.

“There was broken glass on the floor and I just…I lost it,” Frank finished, admittedly feeling less nervous, though, with Gerard’s hand on his. “I’ve never done something like that before. I’ve thought about it, but it’s just never seemed like it was comforting. It still wasn’t, but it was just…in the moment.”

“You haven’t done it since then?” Gerard asked, his voice soft, like Frank would break if he got too loud.

“Nah,” Frank shook his head. “One time thing.”

“Are you okay, though?”

Frank cringed at the question for two reasons. Firstly, he didn’t know if he really was okay. And secondly, because Gerard was asking him if he was okay when he had suffered damage at the hands of Frank.

“I don’t know,” Frank shrugged. “It doesn’t feel like…it doesn’t seem like you can ever be fully okay, you know?”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, squeezing Frank’s hand. “I know what you mean. You can come to me, you know. If you’re ever, like, when you really don’t feel okay, you can talk to me. I know I can’t do much for you, and I probably don’t have the right shit to say to you, and I probably can’t even say anything to help, but I’ll still—”

“I know, Gerard,” Frank chuckled softly. “And you do help. Just being here. I swear, just being around you helps so much…I can’t even explain it to you.”

Gerard didn’t know that when he wasn’t present, Frank sank into a dark spiral that could only be resolved with a couple bottles of beer. Frank was heavily dependent upon Gerard, and when Gerard wasn’t there, Frank turned to the alcohol. Frank didn’t want Gerard to know, because he didn’t want Gerard to feel like he wasn’t enough. He was more than enough. Frank just believed he was inherently fucked up.

Gerard blushed and allowed his head to rest on Frank’s shoulder. “I’m glad I do.”

“Are, uh, are you okay?” Frank asked. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually asked each other that.”

Frank couldn’t help but think that since Gerard didn’t even realize how messed up Frank still was, that there was a possibility Gerard was suffering just as much or maybe more on the inside.

“I think so,” Gerard nodded, his temple rubbing against Frank’s shoulder. “Like you said, no one is ever fully okay, but I think I am as okay as I can be now. It feels like…I dunno, it probably sounds stupid.”

“Lemme hear it and I’ll let you know,” Frank smiled. “I have no problems telling you when you’re stupid.”

“Asshole,” Gerard laughed, squeezing Frank’s hand tighter than was comfortable. “I guess I feel like my world kind of, uh, revolves around us. If we’re doing okay, then everything feels okay.”

“I hope we stay okay,” Frank said.

“Me, too,” Gerard agreed, and then suddenly his hand was gone from around Frank’s and he was off of the bed, standing in front of Frank, hands on his hips, looking impossibly girly. It made Frank laugh a little. “See, this is the part where I would kiss you and I really fucking want to, so I’m just gonna go get us something to eat…or something.”

“Well, thanks for putting that thought in my head, fucker,” Frank called after him as Gerard walked towards the living room.

“Deal with it!” Gerard called right back to him, already in the living room and too far for Frank to see him.

Frank smiled at the doorway and then looked down at his arm, the scars staring up at him. He felt as though they symbolized how damaged he still was. The tattoos were just a cover up, eluding one to think that the skin beneath them was untainted. He wouldn’t let himself linger on those thoughts, not at the moment at least, with Gerard still under the same roof as him, and still providing the same comfort that his presence always did. The pessimistic thoughts would have to wait until Frank was alone again.


	49. Chapter 48: Progressing Forward

It seemed strange how the most difficult days dragged on at a tortuously slow pace, while the enjoyable—the happy—days passed by in a quick blur.

Frank’s week was passing by in a haze of work during the day, lunches with Gerard, nights at various gigs and bars with Gerard, Mikey, and Alicia, and even a couple of dinners at Gerard’s and Mikey’s apartment. Fortunately, the tension between Frank and Mikey had diminished because of Gerard’s decision to tell Mikey that Frank refused to do anything physical until they figured things out between the two of them. With respect and faith restored into Frank, Mikey was able to enjoy his company.

Because of the fast paced and busy schedule he was keeping, Frank found that his pessimistic moments of self-doubt lasted for a much shorter amount of time than usual. They were still undoubtedly there, especially because of the fact that Gerard was more _present_ in Frank’s life than ever, which only served to make his absence more noticeable.

Frank’s routine of day on and day off drinking had diminished since he would go out drinking some nights with Gerard. He would never drink at a bar enough to get drunk—he didn’t want to, either—but he was usually exhausted by the time he got home, so whatever “drinking schedule” he had was gone. There were just occasional nights, where he felt this incredible high while he was with Gerard, and it would crash the moment he stepped into his apartment.

He would scrub at his face with cold water, even take a shower sometimes, but in the end, he would give in to the magnetic pull that he felt towards the fridge and what it contained. It was no longer a pattern that reflected his previous behavior; rather, it was an emotional crutch that held him up when Gerard wasn’t there to do the same.

Frank knew he could text or call Gerard at any given moment and have his comfort there. Gerard would probably even hurry over there and spend every night that he needed to with Frank. Frank didn’t want to show Gerard how dependent he’d become on him, though, and how it had taken the form of an alcoholic dependency.

So he would just drown it out with a couple of bottles of beer and sleep it off. Then he would wake up the next day and see Gerard without an ounce of those pessimistic feelings anywhere near his mind.

**

“You think the details will show when that’s printed on the flyer?” Frank asked, standing behind the chair that Gerard was sitting on, peering at the drawing in Gerard’s lap.

It almost felt like Gerard was working at the store with Frank again. He was seated in the plastic chair, right in front of the lounge, just like he always did when he was Frank’s employee. He was in his casual clothes instead of his professional work clothes and he had his sketchpad in his lap. The only differences were that Frank was a lot more comfortable around him—leaning on the back of the chair, close to Gerard—and the fact that Gerard wasn’t actually working there, but rather spending his day off with Frank.

Gerard hummed and held up the sketchpad so that he could get a better look at it. “Why wouldn’t it?”

“The guy’s probably gonna use cheap ink and not be high quality since he’s gonna print a lot of flyers.”

“Fuck, that’s true,” Gerard groaned, his head falling back in frustration. The back of his head landed softly against Frank’s chest. “I don’t know why this is so fucking hard.”

“You’re thinking too hard, that’s why,” Frank said, placing a hand on Gerard’s forehead where it was wrinkled from the furrow of Gerard’s eyebrows. “You feel pressured ‘cause it’s the first, like, official job someone has asked you to do, but you need to relax.”

“You’re right,” Gerard sighed, shutting his eyes for a few seconds, before finally sitting up straight, Frank’s hand slipping off his forehead and onto his shoulder. “I think I need a break.”

“When’s the deadline?”

“Not till the weekend,” Gerard said. “But I wanted to get it done before then.”

“Don’t rush yourself.” Frank was about to add on to what he hoped was a comforting and relaxing speech when a couple of customers walked in. Frank patted Gerard’s shoulder and walked back to the register, waiting patiently for the man and the woman who had walked in to find what they needed.

They browsed the aisles for a while, and while they did, Frank would take glances at Gerard. He was staring at the sketchpad in his lap, obviously not taking the break he had just decided on, nibbling on his thumbnail.

A band that Alicia knew had been looking for someone to help draw up some art for their flyers that would advertise the short tour they were planning. Knowing Gerard had a knack for art, Alicia had recommended him to the band and they asked him to come up with something. He would show them on the weekend and find out if they liked it enough to use it for the flyer. All they’d told Gerard was that they wanted something with skulls. Gerard had drawn up detailed drawing after detailed drawing, overestimating the quality that the posters would most likely be printed in.

Once the customers finally chose what they wanted and Frank had ringed them up, he went back to Gerard, who was still staring at the drawing before him. It was an amazing drawing of one large skull that looked like it was rotting, and smoke was rising around it, forming other small skulls around it. Gerard explained that the smoke tendrils would go up and curl around the band name however it would be incorporated on the flyer.

“Why don’t you bring down the shadows?” Frank said, standing next to Gerard. “You were using different pencils ‘cause of shading, right?”

Gerard nodded, eyes still locked on the paper before him.

“Try just using one pencil,” Frank said. “Draw it up like a sketch, so that, like, you get the basic idea of what it’s supposed to be, you know? Without all the details?”

Gerard hummed and stared at the drawing for a few silent seconds.

“Does, uh, that make sense?” Frank asked, dipping his head so he could see Gerard’s face.

“Ok,” Gerard nodded. “I’ll try that.” He flipped to another page and pulled a pencil out from the bag that was next to him. He was about to start before he stopped and looked up at Frank. “Sorry I get really annoying when I’m stressed.”

“You’re not annoying,” Frank smiled. “I just wanna see you relax and get it done.”

“Thanks,” Gerard smiled back. “Oh, by the way, aren’t you supposed to be meeting someone today?”

“Yeah, I got a couple of people coming in for job interviews,” Frank sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He walked back to the register and sat behind it. “I’ve never fucking interviewed a person and I hate talking.”

“You’re telling me to relax,” Gerard laughed, “you need to relax. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’ve never hired anyone,” Frank groaned. “What if they fuck me over?”

“I didn’t fuck you over,” Gerard shrugged.

“Hiring you wasn’t something I had planned to do, you stubborn asshole,” Frank couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“I’ll help you if you freak out,” Gerard suggested. “And hiring me was the best fucking unplanned decision ever.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank rolled his eyes, even though they both knew it was clearly true.

Frank had begun to really put into consideration Gerard’s idea to open his own local music shop. It would be a long process—from finding a different place, to getting enough unsigned bands as well as local record companies to actually want to be featured there—but before he could do any of that, he realized that it would be a good idea to find someone who could take his place once his plan was set into action.

The plan was to hire someone and if they stuck around long enough, and proved to be a good enough employee, he could tell his boss to hire them once he was done working there. He’d put out ads and received a few calls and applications. From the ones he had received, he’d narrowed it down to two, who were scheduled to be interviewed that day.

The rest of the day proved to be extremely productive for both men. Gerard drew his drawings a couple of more times, using Frank’s suggestions, until he finally ended up with something he was proud of. Frank’s two potential employees came and after he introduced himself, he quickly realized he had no idea how to conduct an interview, so he pointed at Gerard and said, “This is my currently employee who you’ll be replacing. His name is Gerard and he’ll do the interview with you in the lounge.” Gerard rolled his eyes and played the role well, leading each interviewee into the lounge.

The first interviewee was a man who was in his mid-twenties. His name was Joshua and Frank thought he seemed like a pretty good candidate based on his application. When the interview was done, Gerard shook Joshua’s hand outside of the lounge, thanked him, surprised Frank with his expertise in sounding so professional, and smiled until Joshua was completely out of sight.

“Cross him out,” Gerard said, turning to Frank, the smile off of his face.

“Wait, what? You had a huge smile on your face.”

“Well, duh,” Gerard waved him off. “You’re not supposed to make it obvious that you don’t like them. But he is just really into everything you’re against. I asked him what he thinks would be a good way to increase business, and he said to make the magazines more central.”

“Oh, fuck no,” Frank shook his head.

“Exactly,” Gerard nodded.

“That was a really good question, though,” Frank said. “You’re good at this shit.”

“Yeah, pretty good for you randomly throwing the job at me! You’re good at lying, though, ‘current employee’ my ass.”

“Sorry,” Frank laughed. “But you did good so it’s ok!”

The next interviewee—Aiden—who came in later was much younger. He had just recently turned nineteen, but Frank decided not to judge him considering that he was only seventeen when he was hired.

When the interview was over, he left in the same fashion as Joshua, with Gerard’s enthusiastic goodbye that was impossible to see through. This time, however, the smile didn’t fade even when Aiden was gone.

“He’s way better,” Gerard nodded. “Keep him at the top of the list. He likes good music, first of all, and he seems like he has some good ideas and is willing to, like, advertise. Oh, and he’s totally into the local music scene.”

“Sounds like my kind of employee,” Frank nodded.

“He seems nice, too,” Gerard agreed, taking a seat in his chair. “If you’d had the balls to interview him, you would’ve seen that.”

Frank smiled and flipped him off. “You just screened the good ones for me, or whatever,” Frank shrugged.

“Sure.”

**

The following week was so busy for Frank and Gerard that they hardly saw each other, which was a drastic change for both of them. Gerard was busy, not only with work, but meeting with the band he was making art for and other bands that they had recommended him to after being so impressed with his drawing. He had to use his breaks at work for the meetings, so he wasn’t able to go see Frank, and by the time he was done with work, he was too exhausted.

Frank was busy as well. He had conducted two more interviews, having had Gerard tell him what kind of questions to ask. In the end, though, he ended up hiring Aiden and spent most of the week teaching him the basics. He hadn’t worked in a store before, so he had to be taught how to use the register, and how to manage and record stock.

It felt strange every night that Frank went home and only exchanged a couple of text messages with Gerard without actually seeing him. It brought about that nagging feeling of emptiness and sadness that he was forced to fill with alcohol every single night. Every night, he felt stupider for feeling so down about it, and wished he could just will it away. He couldn’t, though, so he just chased it down with that familiar burning liquid.

**

On the weekend, Gerard had a late shift, so he had the morning off, and when Frank found that out, he immediately gave Aiden a call and told him he would have the morning off as well. Frank hadn’t seen Gerard in a week and he would rather be alone with him once he finally got the chance to see him.

Frank kept telling himself throughout the morning that he had to refrain from flinging his body over the counter and hanging onto Gerard like he was his only life source.

Frank was busy arranging a new shipment of CD’s when the bell to the door of the store chimed. He stood up quickly, receiving a head rush from the sudden movement, but could still clearly see Gerard’s smiling face, even through the blur.

“Hey,” Gerard breathed, almost like he was nervous to see Frank after their time apart. He stood just a few feet from Frank, in his casual clothes, even his skinny jeans replaced with a pair of baggy sweats, his hands lost in the pockets of them.

“Hey,” Frank smiled, and though he planned to have _some_ boundaries and _some_ self-control, he lost all knowledge of the definition of the two. He took the few steps separating him from Gerard and slipped his arms around Gerard’s waist. He desperately wished he could kiss him, but that side of his self-control still remained, so he settled for a hug.

Gerard was tense at first and loosened up when he felt Frank’s forehead land over the crook of his neck. He wrapped his arms around Frank’s shoulders and pulled him even closer.

“Missed you,” Frank sighed.

It always scared Frank when he caught himself in a moment like this, completely open and unbarred, exposing his emotions and showing how needy he was for affection from Gerard and for _Gerard_ in general. That fear only lasted for a millisecond whenever Gerard was actually around him. He couldn’t think about anything else in his presence.

“I missed you, too,” Gerard practically squealed, an over-excited grin on his face. He tightened his arms around Frank’s shoulders. While Frank felt fear, Gerard wanted to jump up and down with excitement. Nothing made him happier than getting to see how much Frank actually cared.

Frank’s hands overlapped each other slightly around Gerard’s back and clutched at the fabric of Gerard’s sweater.

“If I don’t let go, you think we’ll both stop being too busy to see each other?” Frank asked, his voice slightly muffled by the collar of Gerard’s sweater.

“Or Mikey will just kick both our asses,” Gerard laughed. “But we can test it out.”

Frank took a deep breath, nuzzling his face into Gerard’s neck. Gerard felt a stirring of warmth at the pit of his stomach and let out a shaky breath when Frank finally pulled away.

“It’s only been a week, but it feels like it’s been forever,” Frank complained, standing just an inch away from Gerard, having managed to take his hands off of him.

“I know,” Gerard agreed. “I hate it.”

“Hopefully shit will clear up.”

“I hope so,” Gerard nodded. He glanced at the CD’s that Frank had abandoned on the floor. “You need help with those?”

“Just like old times,” Frank smiled, stepping away from Gerard to finish putting the CD’s up. “Sure.”

Gerard bent over and picked up a few CD’s, scanning the shelves for their proper location.

“So how’s it been with Aiden working here?” Gerard asked.

“Really good,” Frank answered, putting a couple of CD’s in their place. “He’s a smart kid, he’s learned everything pretty fast.”

“If he was older, I think I’d be jealous,” Gerard joked.

“Oh, please,” Frank laughed. “You have no fucking reason to be jealous…I mean, ever.”

“I dunno, you’re this outgoing guy now,” Gerard shrugged sarcastically. “Next thing I know, you’re gonna have guys lined up here.”

“Yeah, right,” Frank laughed again. “You were the only fucking exception and not even, like, by an official decision! It just happened! But you’re gonna stay the only fucking person.”

“I was the only person?” Gerard blushed, glancing over at Frank, who was looking through a list that was in the box and comparing them with what he had stacked so far.

“Yeah,” Frank said simply. “I hadn’t, well…been with a guy and I didn’t plan on it.”

“And I’m gonna be the only person?”

“I really don’t think I would wanna be with anyone else,” Frank shrugged. He didn’t realize the weight of that statement until it had already left his mouth. He was slightly panicked by it and when he looked up at Gerard, he was staring at the shelf of CD’s, his thumb against his lip, and a stupid little tight-lipped smile on his face, topped with a slight bush on his cheeks. “I-I know we’re not, well, together, but you know…you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded, that smile still on his face and it was making Frank’s stomach practically do backflips inside him. “I do, ‘cause I feel the same way.”

“You’re such a fucker,” Frank groaned, shoving the box of CD’s with his foot so that it hit Gerard’s foot.

“What?” Gerard asked, finally turning to look at Frank and wagging his foot around slightly from the impact of the box.

“Stop having conversations with me that make me wanna fucking make out with you!” Frank huffed, turning away from Gerard and going to his seat behind the register. “You make it so hard!”

Gerard barked out a high-pitched laugh and Frank really wanted to chuck something heavy at him so he would stop being so…tempting. Frank was starting to think that he should have called an end to the agreement they had going, except that he still had no idea what things were supposed to be like if they considered themselves a “thing” or a “couple.”

“You make it seem like I’m the only bad guy!”

“Oh, you are,” Frank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, ‘cause that hug and your fucking face in my neck was no big deal, huh?”

“For your information, I did that to stop myself from doing anything else,” Frank spoke confidently, like he was making a valuable point.

“Saying stuff like that totally doesn’t help!” Gerard pointed an accusatory finger.

Frank flipped him off in a sign of defeat and having no other argument.

“I better get paid for finishing these for you,” Gerard said, grabbing another handful of CD’s from the box. “And extra for my foot, asshole, it hurt.”

“Lunch on me next time we go out,” Frank suggested.

Gerard paused, pursing his lips. “Next two lunches and we’re even.”

“Whatever,” Frank rolled his eyes, smiling. “Alright. When are we gonna get to do that?”

“I think I’m gonna be off on Friday,” Gerard answered him, finishing the last of the CD’s, setting them straight, and then walking over to the register.

“Okay, pick a place and we’ll go out to lunch Friday.”

“That’ll be one lunch down,” Gerard nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, one to go,” Frank waved him off, smiling. When it came to Gerard, there seemed to hardly be a moment when he wasn’t smiling.


	50. Chapter 49: Expectation's Company

“I have awesome news,” Frank gushed into the phone on a late Monday night after work. He lay in his bed, warm beneath his sheets, with only his head and hand poking out from beneath the blanket.

“What’s up?” Gerard asked enthusiastically over the other end of the phone.

“I was looking up some buildings up for sale or rent, and I found this really nice place that I think I could buy,” Frank rambled off, having been happily waiting to tell Gerard the entire day. “I called up the realtor and I got an appointment to check the place out on Friday.”

“Shit, no way!” Gerard responded just as excitedly as Frank thought he would have. “That’s awesome!”

“I know!” Frank nodded into his empty room. “So, hey, I was thinking, uh…I want you to come with me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frank said, his free hand scraping against the sheets nervously. “I mean, you’re the one who gave me the idea, like, I couldn’t have come up with it without you, so…I just want you to, you know, be there with me through it all. Give me advice, your opinions, and just…be there, you know?”

“Yeah,” Gerard answered and Frank could hear in his voice that he was smiling; he could envision that face-occupying grin that would always show up on his face when he thought something was sweet or endearing. “I would love to. I wanna be there with you.”

“Awesome,” Frank smiled. “So it’s on Friday, and I know you’re off of work that day and we’re gonna go out to lunch. So, the appointment is at twelve, and we can have lunch after. It can either be a ‘fuck this is gonna be awesome’ lunch or a ‘what the fuck am I doing’ lunch.”

“I hope it’ll be the awesome one,” Gerard laughed.

“Me, too,” Frank sighed, the smile still on his face.

“ _Oh_ , wait, I think Friday morning Mikey set up a meeting for me,” Gerard said. “Wait, lemme ask him.”

“Oh, ok,” Frank nodded and waited patiently. He could hear the rustling as Gerard got out of bed, and the door of his bedroom opening, then the banging on Mikey’s door.

“Hey, Mikes! I know you’re awake! Ok, I’m coming in anyways!”

Frank smiled as he heard the door open because with Gerard, there was really no point in having doors. If he needed something, he’d be stubborn and not let a door get in his way.

“I knew you weren’t asleep,” Frank could hear Gerard say. “Hey, didn’t you tell me someone wanted to meet with me Friday?”

There was the faint sound of Mikey’s soft spoken response in the background, much too quiet for Frank to form into words.

“Oh, yeah, I totally forgot about that,” Gerard said. “I have plans with Frank, so I can’t meet with him. Can you ask him if he can meet in the morning?” Mikey said something in response, to which Gerard said, “Oh my God, it won’t kill you!” Another response from Mikey and Gerard replied, “Fine, whatever, text me his number then and I’ll tell him. I didn’t ask you to be the one setting up my meetings anyways.”

With that, Frank heard Gerard exiting the room, one door shutting behind him, and then another as he went back into his room.

“Sorry about that,” Gerard grunted. He got settled into bed, letting out a groan of relief when he got comfortable. “I love my bed.”

Frank was about to say, “I love your bed, too,” but chose not to because then they would both just end up frustrated at the end of the conversation. “I know,” Frank chose to laugh out instead. “You got another band to meet with?”

“Yeah, I had totally forgotten about them!” Gerard said. “There have been a lot of guys talking to Alicia and Mikey about me.”

“That’s good,” Frank nodded. “You’re doing something with your art.”

“I know,” Gerard sighed happily. “I mean, it’s not what I would have dreamed of, but I’m still happy about doing it.”

“Me, too,” Frank agreed. “What are you gonna be drawing up for these guys?”

“I think Mikey said they want some T-shirt designs,” Gerard answered. “I dunno, I’m meeting with Ray tomorrow. Oh, you remember Ray, right? He’s the guitar player we met awhile back?”

It took a moment for Frank’s memory to click into place. He did remember Ray, though. He was a ridiculously amazing guitar player that had blown them all away with his exemplary skills. Frank remembered being in awe, not only of his accuracy while playing, but his stage presence. The energy that he used to play could be felt by every member of the audience.

Frank also remembered how he’d gotten stupidly jealous of Ray that night because of Gerard’s compliments. Gerard had complimented Ray the same way he’d complimented Frank, and Frank, being the idiot that he was, got drunk and confessed to Gerard that it had made him angry. If that had happened recently, it may not have been as bad, but back when Frank had still been trying to keep his emotional guard up around Gerard, that had been detrimental to every plan he had about keeping Gerard at a safe distance.

“Yeah, I remember him,” Frank answered before he got too caught up in his reminiscent thoughts. “Are you gonna be able to reschedule? Or I could just make the appointment with the realtor on a different day.”

“No, no, I’m sure he’ll be able to reschedule. If not, I’ll just have him change it to another day.”

Frank couldn’t help that swelling feeling of pride to know that Gerard wouldn’t reschedule on him. It was admittance to the pinch of jealousy that he would often feel, but he shrugged it off. He didn’t want to be the jealous type.

“Ok, whatever works for you,” Frank shrugged, hoping his jealousy didn’t show at all.

Gerard let out a long yawn, which was usually their signal that it was time for bed, no matter how badly they wanted to spend the entire night on the phone.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Gerard concluded with another short yawn.

“Alright,” Frank found himself yawning right back. “Good night.”

“Night.”

**

Frank was sitting behind the register the following day, with Aiden dusting the shelves of the store.

“Hey, you think you’d be comfortable enough to run the store for a few hours?” Frank asked out of the blue.

Aiden actually dropped the duster to the floor and spun around to face Frank. He was much taller than the shelf so he could easily see Frank from across the room. His dark eyes were wide on his face.

“You mean…alone?” he asked slowly, reaching up to nervously rub at the front of the black beanie he was wearing, his brown hair just barely poking out the end of it.

“You got everything down pretty well,” Frank shrugged. “I think you can do it.”

“I don’t know,” Aiden sighed, bending over to pick up the duster and continuing his job.

“Try it out,” Frank encouraged him. “Just for a few hours on Friday. I’ll come with you to open and I’ll leave before lunch. And then you can close early at five.”

“You think I’m ready, though? To watch the place?”

“Yeah, you’ve done good,” Frank nodded. “I’ll have my phone with me the whole time if anything happens. And if it, I don’t know, gets really hard, you can just close it early and leave, it’s totally fine.”

“Yeah, sure, I guess I’ll go for it,” Aiden said, sounding a bit more confident. He finished dusting the last shelf and went into the lounge, emerging with spray and a towel for the windows. He was always moving, and finding stuff to do. Frank admired him as an employee.

**

Frank admittedly installed a security system on the day that Aiden was off. No matter how great of a worker Aiden was, Frank couldn’t find it in himself to trust that quickly. So he installed security cameras, and hoped Aiden wouldn’t notice. If he did, Frank had already come up with the idea of telling him that he was worried for Aiden being alone, rather than being worried about Aiden himself.

**

When Friday arrived, Frank was restless. He had Aiden watch the counter while he busied himself around the store, doing the things that Aiden usually did. He just couldn’t sit still. He was so excited about the entirety of the day: going to see a place that could potentially be his own store, and spending the day with Gerard. Every couple of minutes, he’d glance at the clock or pull his phone out to look at the time, cursing the morning for passing by so slowly.

When it hit 11:30, he finally stopped wandering around the store and cleaning things that were already clean, so that he could stand next to the counter and wait for Gerard to arrive. They’d agreed on 11:30 so that they could get there earlier than the appointment.

Frank’s face fell slightly when ten minutes passed, and Gerard was nowhere to be found. He told himself that it would be too soon to text him about where he was, so he would wait a bit longer.

When it was almost 11:45, his phone vibrated and he quickly pulled it out. There was a text from Gerard. It read, “I’m really sorry, Ray’s car broke down and I’m giving him a ride. I might be late. Can we meet at the place?”

Frank immediately felt this overwhelming sense of…disappointment. He couldn’t place it, but he felt it in every inch of his body. He could completely understand that Gerard needed to help Ray out, but he couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fact that things weren’t going the way they’d planned. There was also the ever-present jealousy. He talked himself out of it, though, because it didn’t matter how they got there. They were still going to look at the place together.

He texted Gerard back, telling him it was okay, and sending him the address.

“I’m gonna head out,” Frank told Aiden as soon as he’d sent the text. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Aiden nodded confidently. “I’m good.”

“Alright, text me whatever you need,” Frank said and then he was out the door. He was walking at a fast pace so that he could reach the place before the scheduled appointment time. It wasn’t too far and he was used to walking most places, so he was able to get there just a minute after 12.

The realtor was standing outside, smiling happily. She was dressed in a brightly colored blazer and pencil skirt ensemble, legs obviously freezing in the cold, but still maintaining a professional smile and posture.

“Frank Iero?” she greeted him when she saw him walking up to her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, trying to keep the pant out of his voice. “Sorry I’m late, I couldn’t get a ride.”

“Oh, one minute isn’t a problem,” she waved it off and shook his hand. “But let’s get inside and take a look at everything, then?”

Frank nodded again and followed her in. The first thing he noticed was that it was spacious. It had been a store previously, so the set up was perfect. While the realtor energetically talked Frank through the structure of the place, what needed to be repaired, and what made it so great and completely buyable, Frank was only half listening. The other half of his mind was on his phone, which he constantly kept checking. Nothing from Gerard yet.

Frank asked her a few questions about the pipes when she said they would need some work, but if he was asked to recite what he said and what she said in response, he wouldn’t be able to recall a single word. He feigned interest with seemingly attentive nods and hums that were probably badly timed, yet seemed to fool her nonetheless.

“You seem like you need some time to think it over,” she said at the door; they’d finished looking over almost everything.

“Uh, yeah,” Frank said, taking a glance at the place. He’d just walked around every inch of it, but it looked entirely unfamiliar to him. “It’s just my first time, you know, going for something like this.”

“Apprehension,” she nodded. “I totally get it. Well, you’re the only guy interested in it right now, to be honest, so you can take your time. If I haven’t heard from you and someone else starts looking into it, I’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, that would be great.”

“Ok, well you have my card, so if you’ve made up your mind or if you want me to look up more listings, you just call me at any time.”

She continued talking as she made her way out of the door, her heels clacking softly against the floor with every step she took, until they sounded much louder with the impact of concrete. Frank found his mind resonating more with the mundane sound of her heels than the content of the words she was speaking.

Somehow he ended up alone, leaning against the wall outside, no recollection of saying goodbye to the relator who he’d spent about half an hour with. Just the two of them. Gerard hadn’t shown up for a single second of the meeting, not even those last few seconds of goodbyes, which Frank would have been perfectly okay with.

Gerard hadn’t shown up for any of those moments. And as Frank stood there, staring at the ground, disappointment and confusion itching at him, he had no idea how he was _supposed_ to feel about that.


	51. Chapter 50: At Square One

Frank stood outside of the building, alone for a few minutes, until he saw Gerard’s car approaching down the street. He felt like he was choking on his heart that was most definitely beating right in his throat. With a deep breath and the realization that he just couldn’t face Gerard at that moment, he pushed himself off the wall and headed in the opposite direction of where Gerard’s car was coming from.

He could clearly hear Gerard’s car coming to a slow stop, the engine shutting off, the car door opening and closing, footsteps hitting the pavement, slowly at first and then escalating in speed and loudness.

Then there was Gerard’s voice. “Frank!” It got closer and louder just as the sound of his footsteps did. “Frank! Wait!”

Frank didn’t wait. He kept walking, head facing forward, and hands shoved into his front pockets. Of course, that didn’t matter, because seconds after Gerard called him, he was right behind him, grabbing Frank’s arm and forcing him to turn around. Frank did all that he could to maintain a neutral expression, resulting in only a slight grimace.

“Frank, fuck,” Gerard sighed, retracting his hand to run it through his own hair. “Fuck, I missed the appointment, didn’t I?”

Frank cleared his throat before speaking. “Basically,” he nodded, eyes on Gerard’s shoulder rather than his face.

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard began and Frank already knew an apology was coming. That was something he had most definitely anticipated. “Fuck, I’m really sorry, Frank, you know I would never miss something like this.”

“Well then ‘never’ happened, ‘cause you did,” Frank shrugged.

Gerard winced slightly at the bitterness with which Frank spoke, but he couldn’t be surprised. Of course Frank was disappointed and angry with him.

“I wouldn’t do it on purpose, though,” Gerard quickly said. “You know I wouldn’t miss something like this on purpose. I _wanted_ to be here.”

“Yeah, I wanted you to be here, too,” Frank sighed, choosing to look down at the ground instead, because he couldn’t stop the hurt from leaking onto his face.

“I—” Gerard had begun but was interrupted by Frank.

“But you weren’t,” Frank shrugged again. “So, whatever, the appointment’s done, and you weren’t here, so…it’s just…that’s it.”

“I know and I’m sorry for that, but—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Frank spoke to the ground. “You’re sorry, but you still weren’t _here._ ” Frank paused to take a deep breath, calming the tone of his voice. “It’s whatever.”

Frank was about to turn around and walk away, but Gerard took a firm hold on his arm and held him in place.

“Wait, you can’t just—you—you’re not just gonna walk away without me explaining,” Gerard said, shocked that Frank was just going to leave it at that.

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Frank reiterated.

“It does!” Gerard exclaimed, his grip on Frank’s arm tightening slightly before letting go. “Just hear me out.”

“I don’t want to!” Frank finally snapped, looking up at Gerard. “I don’t wanna fucking hear whatever excuse you planned out because it doesn’t matter!”

Gerard’s mouth hung open and he stared at the furious and inclined-to-run-away side of Frank that he hadn’t seen in a while; the side he thought they would move on from.

“You can’t just be mad at me and not let me explain to you,” Gerard said.

“Ok then, what?” Frank said, crossing his arms. “What happened? Why the fuck would it take you so long to take _Ray_ home?”

Gerard ignored the distaste with which Frank spoke Ray’s name and went on, trying to calmly explain himself. “I took Ray home and he lives, like, in fucking Harrison and I didn’t even know that that was where he lived. So that took a while and then the drive back was just fucking jammed with traffic. And I tried to hurry, I swear to God I drove as fast as I can, but I couldn’t make it. You know how traffic gets.”

“Yeah, well you’re the one who should have known how traffic gets before you decided to just give Ray a lift that far,” Frank spat. “You should’ve fucking known that ‘cause I didn’t need to know that ‘cause I fucking walked here alone, and looked at the building alone, so I’m gonna fucking leave _alone_.”

Gerard swallowed and bit his tongue so that he didn’t react defensively to Frank’s hostile words. He understood why Frank was angry; he understood completely.

“I’m sorry, Frank,” Gerard sighed. “I get it, I get why you’re mad, but please, just understand where I’m coming from.”

“I don’t,” Frank said simply. “I don’t fucking understand it. I don’t get why you even made this stupid meeting with Ray knowing we had something to do today, but whatever, but then you fucking give the guy a ride and you don’t even know where he lives and you’re—you—it’s actually a surprise to you that you’re late? Really?”

Frank had one hand in a firm first at his side and the other gesticulating wildly in between the two men, who were only a couple feet apart, yet the farthest they’ve ever been from each other.

“It was a meeting,” Gerard spoke softly. “It was practically a business meeting.”

“I’ve never heard of personal car rides home on business meetings,” Frank rolled his eyes and looked towards the street, eyes and face away from Gerard.

Gerard’s eye brows shot up high on his forehead. “Are you…is this even about me missing the appointment? Or is this about Ray?”

Frank’s jaw tensed and Gerard could clearly see it. Frank said nothing. That was all the answer Gerard needed.

“You’re mostly pissed because it was Ray,” Gerard concluded. “You’d probably fucking understand why I missed the appointment, but you can’t let it go because it was Ray.”

“Shut up,” Frank muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

“You didn’t want me to meet with Ray in the first place.”

“Shut up!” Frank yelled, turning to face Gerard. “So what?? You want me to fucking say it?? You wanna _hear_ me say it?? I didn’t want to because I fucking thought I was being unfair, but then you, just, you miss the appointment so I was fucking right from the beginning! I had a reason not to—”

“No, you didn’t!” Gerard interrupted him. His hands flew up to his head and he ran them furiously through his hair. “I can’t believe this,” he sighed. “I can’t fucking believe this.”

Random people were passing by them, making sure to give the two arguing men a wide berth, and ignoring them as best as they could. Onlookers from across the street would stare for a few short moments and then continue on with their day. To Gerard and Frank, at that moment, it was only the two of them in existence.

Frank’s chest was heaving with every long breath that he took, his body still tingling with anger, but he stayed quiet when he saw Gerard getting just as worked up as he was. He stared and waited for Gerard to continue.

“You know who you sound like right now?” Gerard let out a bitter laugh, his hands still in his hair. “You sound like Blake. You sound exactly like him.”

Gerard’s words drove through Frank like a bullet, straight to his core, hitting every nerve ending and replacing all the anger he felt with pure _hurt_. His mouth opened in shock. No words came out. No words could transcribe what he felt at that moment, so words were entirely useless to him.

“He would always do this,” Gerard continued, shaking his head and dropping his hands to his side. “He would get fucking jealous—‘cause that’s what you’re being, you’re being jealous—and then he would act like a fucking saint because he was just ‘felt too bad’ to tell me to cancel plans, or ‘he didn’t wanna come off as possessive’ or whatever bullshit he came up with, but then later, he would use something on me. Like if I came home late, or missed plans that me and him made, or anything, then he could use that to justify his jealousy. As if he was right all long. Like you’re acting like your reason for not wanting me to be with Ray was all about the appointment, but it wasn’t. The appointment is like…it’s…it’s a scapegoat. The real fucking issue here is that you’re jealous.”

Frank made no noise through Gerard’s long speech other than shocked breaths out of his open mouth that sounded like the breath was being knocked right out of him, which was basically what Gerard’s words were doing to him. He couldn’t believe who Gerard was comparing him to, after all that they’d been through together. He couldn’t believe that Gerard would knowingly hurt him, because Gerard _knew_ how Frank would feel about being compared to Blake, of all people.

“I don’t wanna compare you to Blake like that,” Gerard said, as if that would lighten the blow Frank had just received. “I don’t, but…that’s…this is literally exactly what would fucking happen, Frank. I don’t wanna go through that again. I can’t…I can’t have that happen ag—”

“Then don’t,” Frank finally spoke, his voice coming out hoarser than he would have hoped. He didn’t let it faze him. Gerard simply blinked at him, eye brows still furrowed. “I’ll do you a fucking favor and just pull the new Blake right out of your fucking life, alright?”

With that, Frank turned around and walked away. If he was just another Blake in Gerard’s life—the one thing he tried his hardest not to be—then he wouldn’t stick around. Whether or not he felt like he was acting like Blake didn’t matter. What mattered was that Gerard saw him that way, and if that was how Gerard saw him, Frank didn’t want to be seen by him at all.

Frank would be lying if there wasn’t a small flicker of hope that Gerard would chase after him and tell him that he had it all wrong. He would also be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a crippling pain that started at his heart and ran throughout every inch of his body. And he would most definitely be lying if he said that for the entire walk from the building to the store—which was longer since he left in the opposite direction to purposefully avoid walking past Gerard—he didn’t have a veil of tears slightly clouding his vision.

Frank was hurt. He hadn’t felt this level of emotional pain inflicted on him by anyone other than himself in the longest time. Now that he felt it, he realized why he’d chosen to live without it. It was so much easier to live without it. The pain he inflicted upon himself was far less painful because he cared about himself far less than he did about the person who had hurt him.

**

For days, Frank didn’t hear from Gerard and Gerard didn’t hear from Frank. They were both perfectly aware that it was a case of ‘who would give in first?’ and they were adamant on not being the answer to that question. On those days of reflection, they’d been sulking around in their own worlds until they came to the conclusion that they were both wrong and right in many ways about the entire situation. But they still wouldn’t give in. They both had far too many experiences in being the submissive one so they forced themselves not to fall into that role again.

They both undoubtedly checked their phones multiple times throughout the day, waiting for a message or a call, but got nothing.

Frank had managed not to sink too deep into his alcoholic hole. The first night after their argument, he drank himself into the next morning, when he woke up on the bathroom floor, right next to the toilet.

After that, he didn’t need much because he was already numb. It was just that old habit that remained with him even though it didn’t benefit his raging emotions in the least.

He felt like he was back at the beginning. Alone. Though he had thought that maybe that was best, and less painful, he was realizing that the repetitive cycle—work, eat, sleep—was something he had been glad to leave behind. And now he was stuck in it again.


	52. Chapter 51: An Extreme Need

Frank missed Gerard. He missed him so much that it left a stabbing pinch against his chest every time his heart beat against it. It hurt in the technically least physical way possible, yet manifested itself into a physical pain that Frank just couldn’t pinpoint. It was just pain in its rawest form.

It had been a week exactly since they parted in a way that Frank regretted with every centimeter of his existence. The week before that had been difficult enough with the fact that Frank hardly saw Gerard, but this time it was so much worse because Frank didn’t know when he would see Gerard again, he didn’t hear from Gerard on a regular nightly basis, and above everything else, he had no idea what Gerard was feeling for him at those moments.

Had he lost some of his feelings for Frank since he saw a blatant parallel between Frank and Blake? Would the thought of Frank inevitably bring about memories of Blake? Had Frank ruined the only good thing that had come into his life with this unexplained possessive nature that he had never felt before? He had never been jealous—he never had anything to be jealous about. Now that he had felt jealousy, and let it show, it had brought nothing but destruction.

Frank was still hurt by Gerard, though, he couldn’t deny that. Gerard’s words and the lack of care he showed while using them had dug deep and even though Frank was willing to forget it all just to have Gerard back, it wasn’t enough incentive to make Frank pull his cell phone out and contact Gerard, no matter how much he thought about it. And he thought about it a lot.

“Frank?”

Frank was snapped out of his thoughts by Aiden’s voice. When he focused in on where he was and what he was doing, rather than the images of Gerard in his mind, he saw that a postman had a few boxes for him and was waiting for Frank to sign the clipboard that was in front of him. The postman was holding Frank down with an impatient stare.

“Sorry,” Frank mumbled, quickly scribbling down his signature and handing the postman his clipboard. “Thank you.”

The postman said nothing in response as he made his way out of the store. Frank sighed and was about to walk around the register to pick up the boxes when Aiden beat him to it, stepping up from the chair he was seated in in front of the lounge—the chair that used to be occupied by Gerard.

“I got it,” Aiden said, grunting slightly when he picked up the first box. He opened it up and then took it to the aisle that he needed to stack the CD’s in. Frank was inwardly grateful for Aiden more than ever. He would repeatedly zone out throughout the day, his thoughts way too busy and loud to allow him to concentrate on anything. “Everything okay?”

It was the seventh day of Frank moping around distractedly and Aiden hadn’t said a word about it.

“Yeah, s’good,” Frank lied.

“You’ve just been a little…out of it,” Aiden said quietly, kneeling down in front of the box to sort the CD’s before he began stacking them.

“I know,” Frank said. “Some…personal stuff going on.”

Aiden nodded silently and began stacking the CD’s. Frank was grateful for Aiden ten times more since he didn’t continue prodding at Frank, because Frank would have probably ended up spilling all of his feelings out since they’d been building up inside of him and they were suffocating.

“That was the only empty shelf,” Aiden said when he finished. “I’ll put the rest of the boxes in the lounge.”

“Ok, thanks,” Frank nodded.

Aiden picked up the two remaining boxes and said, “Can you get the door for me?” when he reached the lounge. Frank went over and swung the door wide open so Aiden could get in. He was about to walk back to the register when Aiden said, “If you need a day off, I can run the store for another day. It wasn’t bad last time.”

He sighed with relief when the weight of the boxes left his arms and rested against the wall and turned to face Frank, who was standing at the door.

“Nah, I’m good for now,” Frank answered. “I’ll let you know if I need one, though. You did good that day.”

“Thanks,” Aiden smiled.

Frank turned back to the register and sat there, rethinking the day that Aiden ran the store, because it was that day that he and Gerard had last spoken. His mind reran through his thoughts a million times over again and his day continued that way until it ended.

At night, he drank about two and a half bottles of beer, discarded them in the sink, and then got in bed. Before he fell asleep, he thought about contacting Gerard.

**

When Frank woke up in the morning, his thoughts continued from the night before, the alcohol not weighing him down since it hadn’t been too much. He had the irresistible need to just know how Gerard was doing. That was all he needed to know, but he couldn’t ask Gerard because he didn’t know what else to say to him yet, so he went with the next best thing.

Before Frank got ready for work, he texted Mikey. “How’s Gerard been doing?”

Frank got up to change and made a cup of coffee and by the time he had finished, he’d received two text messages from Mikey.

The first one read: “You 2 fighting huh?” And then the second one said: “Doing ok…kinda off since ur not around”

Frank sighed with confusion because once again, he didn’t know what he was supposed to feel. He replied to Mikey, saying, “We just need to work some stuff out. I just wanted to know that he’s ok. Don’t tell him I asked.”

He received an instant reply that said, “2 late”

Frank groaned and texted: “Thanks…”

Mikey replied with, “Ur welcome :)”

Frank shoved his phone into his pocket, took his coffee, and headed out the door, breathing in the cool air along with his warm coffee to hopefully clear his mind a little. His mind didn’t clear. It just made room for more thoughts to come flooding in.

He secretly anticipated that since Mikey told Gerard that Frank had asked about him, Gerard may have given in and decided to contact Frank. Throughout the day, he wasn’t zoned out because of his thoughts, he was zoned out because he kept checking his phone.

Aiden was supposed to only work for half of the day, but seeing how Frank was practically just a mannequin at the register, he decided it was better to stay.

“I know it’s probably not my place, but…” Aiden broke the silence that had lasted through their day. It was nighttime and it was only about an hour before closing time.

“Huh? What’s up?” Frank asked, shoving his phone into his back pocket so he could pay attention to Aiden and not be rude.

“I think maybe you really need a day off,” Aiden shrugged, leaning against the door frame of the lounge. “Or you could just sit here while I run the register? It would just be easier for you…if you want.”

Frank sighed and turned to look at Aiden. He was young but mature and determined when it came to his job. He had chosen the right employee. _Gerard_ had helped him choose the right employee.

“Thanks,” Frank said, smiling at Aiden. “I’ll come in tomorrow but let you run everything just because I can’t fucking stay ho—”

Frank was interrupted when there was a loud bang from outside and the window of the store shattered. Frank and Aiden both jumped in place, eyes wide and hearts beating wildly when the bullet that had shattered the window made it to the wall that was between the two workers.

For a moment, they were frozen with fear, until another shot was fired, much louder, and landed itself loudly into one of the shelves.

“Fuck!” Frank heard Aiden scream, but his mind was blank with fear. Two more shots. One broke the second window and landed in another shelf, and another broke the glass on the door and landed in the counter—the only thing shielding Frank.

Frank suddenly returned to his senses and dropped to the ground, his elbows and knees hitting the floor with a loud and hard thud. He held his hands over his head and looked up slightly to find Aiden laying in the same position as him by the lounge. He was completely exposed.

“Fuck! Fuck! Come here! Cover yourself! Come here!” Frank shouted, waving Aiden over.

Aiden looked up, his eyes shining with fearful tears as he shimmied his way across the ground, keeping his hands over his head as he moved. He finally made it to the floor behind the counter and Frank quickly scooted over so that there was room for the two of them, leaving his body in between Aiden’s and the counter.

The gunshots were being fired much quicker now, but Frank could no longer hear them. There was a loud ringing in his ear that had either come from the loudness of the shots or from the fear he felt, or both. His heart was beating faster than he’d ever felt it beat, reverberating right against Aiden’s back that was pressed against him. Aiden was shaking, his body curled up in a ball, his hands on his neck, and his arms pressed against his ears.

Frank shut his eyes and wrapped a protective arm over Aiden’s body, waiting for it to be over. Waiting for one of the bullets to hit the glass in the counter, then the thin backing of it, and hit Frank right in his back. He was waiting. He saw some bullets hit the wall just a few feet above him and was waiting for them to go lower. He waited to die. He feared dying.

His heart sped up, if that was even possible, with the idea of dying. Throughout most of his life, Frank would have welcomed this kind of death that was beyond his control. It would end his life without his cowardly self having to do it. Now, though, Frank didn’t want to die. He had someone to live for. He had Gerard. He hadn’t talked to Gerard. He and Gerard were not on good terms and he would die without having fixed things, without having told Gerard how much he had missed him and how he didn’t want to spend another day without seeing him. Frank couldn’t die yet.

With the bullets showering the entire store, Frank shut his eyes tight and the only image that flashed through his mind was Gerard.

At some point, Frank felt Aiden rolling away from him. He opened his eyes to find that Aiden had rolled over so that he was facing him, his eyes wide and full of the tears that hadn’t joined the other escaped tears on his cheeks.

Frank didn’t hear any more gunshots.

“I-I-Is it o-over?” Aiden asked, his hands still lightly resting against his ears.

“I th-think so,” Frank nodded. “Call the cops. Fuck, call the cops.”

Aiden nodded and struggled for a while to calm his shaking hands enough to reach into his pocket and get his phone. Frank sat himself up and stared ahead of him with wide eyes, his entire body and heart still pounding with fear. There was a loud ringing in his ears and he couldn’t tell if it was a result of the gunshots or the fear.

Aiden was still laying on the floor, messily blubbering words that Frank couldn’t even make out into the cell phone.

The silent waiting, the police officers escorting Frank and Aiden out of the store—Frank only briefly catching a glimpse of the store and the mess it was left in due to the bullets destroying some of the shelves and CD’s—and the examination by the paramedics outside of the store; all of it was strung together in an undecipherable blur.

Frank was sitting at the back of an ambulance, along with Aiden, who was still shaking slightly even though he had a blanket draped over his shoulders. Frank had chosen to remain without the blanket. He felt like he was suffocating and the blanket didn’t help.

Two officers were stood in front of Frank and Aiden, questioning them on how the events took place, trying to grasp onto the memories while they were still fresh.

“I-I didn’t see…anything,” Aiden told one officer. “It just...started. No one came in o-or anything.”

“Neither of you was able to catch a glimpse of a car or a person outside before or after the shots started?” the officer asked.

“We were kind of busy freaking the fuck out,” Frank said dryly. “Can the questions wait? My employee is obviously not ready to talk about it.”

The officers exchanged glances before they left Frank and Aiden with a nod. Aiden let out a shaky sigh and a whispered, “Thank you,” to Frank. Frank just nodded.

After a short while of sitting silently next to each other, officers and paramedics maneuvering around them, Frank felt Aiden perk up next to him. He looked up and saw Aiden smiling—it seemed so out of place on his facial features after the events that had just taken place—and staring straight ahead. Before Frank could ask what was going on, Aiden jumped out of his seat and ran forward. There were three people pushing through the crowd of onlookers—a man, a woman, and a younger girl—and the woman was first to take Aiden into her arms once she passed the barricades. The man wrapped his arms around both Aiden and the woman holding him, and the girl stood politely to the side, tears and a smile on her face. Frank figured that the man and woman were obviously Aiden’s parents. When they released him, Aiden took the girl into his arms, lifting her so that her toes left the ground and pressing his lips to hers heatedly and in a string of rushed kisses. And then Frank figured that that was Aiden’s girlfriend.

Frank unabashedly stared right into the intimate family moment, feeling this strange emptiness as he sat there alone, with no one to run to, no one to call his, and no one to tell Frank how grateful they were that he was alive. Frank dropped his gaze to his lap, a lonely tear slipping down his cheek. He swiped it away quickly and blinked away the others that tried to escape.

“Frank?”

Frank looked up at the familiar voice that was speaking to him. It was Aiden’s voice, just slightly broken with the tears that he’d cried.

“I, uh, I wanted to thank you,” Aiden said when Frank looked up at him. “You covered me. I might have stayed where I was and got shot or something.”

“That’s nothing,” Frank shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“I’m glad we both are,” Aiden nodded. “But…I hate to do this, but my mom…my mom doesn’t feel comfortable letting me work here after this ha—”

“I get it,” Frank interrupted, not surprised at all at what Aiden was saying. “If I was her, I would’ve done the same fucking thing. You need a break from everything after this anyways.”

“Thanks,” Aiden smiled. “She was gonna come over here and thank you, but she would’ve probably embarrassed you.”

“It’s ok,” Frank could only return a fourth of the smile Aiden had, the corner of his lip just barely turning up. “She doesn’t need to thank me. You were, uh, really good. You did a good job. I’ll make sure to send you your first check with extra for all this.”

“You don’t need to do—”

“It’s fine, Aiden,” Frank reassured him. “You deserve it. And if you need a recommendation, or something, let me know.”

“Wow, um, thanks,” Aiden smiled shyly. He hesitantly stepped forward and wrapped one arm around Frank in a loose hug. Frank returned it in the same awkward fashion, feeling pitiful at the thought the only hug he received after getting shot at was a goodbye hug from his ex-employee.

Once Aiden left, Frank was alone, watching as his store was examined inside and out, searching for evidence, assessing the damage—there would be the insurance to deal with. Frank groaned and scrubbed at his face. He was thinking about _insurance._ Frustration at himself settled into his mind as he thought about his life and where it was in that moment. Had it actually ended, had a bullet reached him and he died, he would have had nothing. The most precious person to him, Gerard, wasn’t even there because Frank had driven him away. Gerard was the only thing that flashed through Frank’s mind throughout the shooting because Gerard was the only thing Frank had to live for.

With one hand halfway through his hair, the other shaking hand dug into his pocket and pulled his phone out. He didn’t want to just blatantly tell Gerard that there had been a shooting and freak him out, so he settled for a simple text message that he felt summarized most of his feelings at that moment, simply without the context. “Please come to the store I need you now more than ever.”

Frank shut his eyes and hit send then quickly slipped the phone back into his pocket. Next he had to wait. He kept his eyes focused on his legs that were dangling over the edge of the back of the ambulance where he was sat. He didn’t pay attention to how much time passed, he just waited.

When he finally heard Gerard’s voice over the hustling and busyness around him, it was like the entire night had been wiped away and he was back to a slate that was clean of late-night shootings.

“Frank?!” Frank looked up immediately and searched for Gerard in the crowd. He spotted him pushing through a few people, eyes frantically searching the entire area, trying to mentally summarize what exactly had taken place. “Frank??”

Frank tried to speak up, but his voice was lodged in his throat, jammed tightly in there with emotions.

Gerard continued pushing through people until he reached the front, just around the barricades that were put around the store. His eyes stopped on Frank, widening in a mix of relief and more anxiety—if that was even possible.

Frank’s voice could do him no good at that point, so he used his legs instead. He pushed himself off of the truck and ran towards Gerard, who went through the barricades, arms ready to take hold of Frank, to provide Frank with that comfort and relief that he had desired the entire night, to make Frank feel like his life mattered to someone.

Gerard’s arms encircled Frank’s waist, while Frank’s hands flew up to the side of Gerard’s head, taking a tight hold of his perfectly styled hair and pulling his face down to meet his. Gerard was obviously ready to say something, most likely to ask what happened, but Frank didn’t need words at that moment. He needed Gerard’s lips on his, so he got what he needed, hungrily attacking Gerard’s mouth with his, groaning into it desperately, his tongue tasting every part of Gerard’s mouth like he needed it to live.

Gerard didn’t complain. He pulled Frank even closer so that their bodies were touching entirely, having to bend Frank back just slightly to keep their lips together. Frank’s fingers kept tightening in Gerard’s hair, earning him a twinge of pain, but one that he could overlook for the feel of Frank against him, healthy and unharmed.

When their lips separated, their foreheads stayed pressed together, panting their warm breaths over each other’s faces. Frank’s tattooed fingers released Gerard’s hair and slid down to his face, relishing in the touch of his skin.

“I’m so sorry,” Gerard spoke first.

“Shut up,” Frank shook his head, eyes shut. “I am.”

Before the argument of who was at fault and who was sorry could begin, Frank dropped his hands from Gerard’s face so that they could wrap around his waist, and pulled himself even closer to Gerard, hiding his face in the crook of Gerard’s neck, taking deep breaths to keep the grateful tears from spilling out of his eyes. Gerard complied with the hug, just as he did with the kiss, wrapping his arms around Frank, and resting the side of his face against Frank’s slightly greasy hair.

“What the fuck happened?” Gerard asked, only catching a small glimpse of the store, much too engrossed in Frank to think of anything else. “Are you okay? Did anything happen to you? You’re okay, right?”

“I’m good now,” Frank mumbled into Gerard’s skin. “I just…I fucking needed you.” Frank’s grip around Gerard tightened with the statement, and Gerard could feel him sniffling slightly, trying to disguise it as an intake of breath.

“I’m here,” Gerard whispered right into his ear and that was truly all Frank needed.


	53. Chapter 52: Careless Relaxation

Once Frank embraced Gerard, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—let go. He had tucked himself comfortably into Gerard’s side, arms still wrapped around Gerard, hands clasping over each other under Gerard’s opposite arm. He had to hunch over just slightly as Gerard maneuvered the two of them around, one arm wrapped around Frank.

Every time Gerard glanced down at Frank, it killed him how vulnerable he looked. He was clutching onto Gerard like a child would clutch onto their parent in a crowded room, and his entire face was stuck in an expression of pure loss, like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Fortunately, they were able to leave just a few minutes after Gerard arrived. The officers let Frank know that they would be contacting him soon and then sent him off to go home and rest. When Gerard walked himself and Frank to his car, he had to practically peel Frank off of him and push him into the car. One of Frank’s hands lingered in the air slightly, ready to grab at Gerard, before it dropped down to his lap and he obediently sat in his seat. Gerard shut the door for him and went around to the driver’s side.

They were completely silent for the beginning of the drive. Frank had bent his knees in front of his chest, his feet on the edge of the seat, and his head was resting against the cold window.

Halfway through the car ride, Gerard broke the silence with, “Frank…you wanna talk about it? Tell me what happened?”

Frank sighed and turned his face slightly so that he was facing Gerard, but could still feel the cold window against his head.

“Someone shot at the store,” Frank spoke robotically. “Just shot from the outside, a lot, and left.”

Gerard glanced at Frank only briefly, having to keep his eyes on the road. He didn’t know what to say or do to make this any easier. The fright that Frank must have felt, being in the store while bullets showered everything around him, Gerard couldn’t fathom it. While he debated what he should or shouldn’t say, he saw Frank shift slightly in his peripheral vision, and saw Frank rest his hand on the middle console that was separating them, palm up and inviting Gerard to take it. Gerard glanced at Frank again and saw that he was looking at Gerard expectantly. Gerard smiled slightly and held the steering wheel with his left hand, while his right hand took a hold of Frank’s, their fingers interlacing together.

Frank stared down at their hands, so comforted by such a simple gesture. He felt as though his entire world was shifting more than it already had. He had already realized how much he cared for Gerard, and he knew that he couldn’t live without him, but everything was put into perspective; he realized how easily he could lose it all if he didn’t appreciate it every moment that he could. Even the small gestures, the hand in his, promising him safety and security, was enough to pull him out of the darkness of his mind.

“Thank you,” Frank said, “for coming. For being there—here.”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Gerard smiled, giving Frank’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The rest of the car ride was silent, yet comfortable, their hands only leaving each other’s company when they had to get out of the car at Frank’s apartment. Gerard allowed Frank to lead the way so that he could move in whatever pace he wanted. When they reached the door of Frank’s apartment, Gerard waited behind Frank while he dug in his pocket to get his keys.

Gerard could see Frank’s hand shaking slightly as he tried to slide the key into the keyhole. It trembled more as he got closer and had to focus, until he finally tried to push it in, and he missed. A frustrated sigh left his mouth and he brought the other hand up to hold onto the door knob, as if it would somehow steady the target, even though it wasn’t the target that was moving.

Gerard stepped closer to Frank, Frank’s back just barely touching Gerard’s chest. He placed one hand on Frank’s hip and the other over Frank’s hand that was holding the key. Frank sighed—softer this time—and eased into the touch, allowing Gerard’s hand to guide his and finally get the key into the keyhole and get the door open.

When they stepped inside, Gerard shut the door behind him and turned the lamplight on in the living room. Frank slid his shoes off at the door and then just stood there, hands shoved into his pockets, and blankly staring at Gerard.

At the same time that Gerard spoke, saying, “Do you want me to—” Frank had already blurted out, “Can you stay with me tonight?”

They exchanged small smiles and Frank reached up to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he said. “If you can, please.”

“I wouldn’t want you alone,” Gerard nodded. “You wanna just get to bed? I think you need rest.”

Frank simply nodded and went to the bedroom, Gerard following right behind him. Gerard tended to Frank as if he’d actually been physically wounded. He sat Frank down on the edge of the bed and knelt down on the floor to take Frank’s socks off.

“You don’t have to,” Frank tried to protest, but Gerard simply waved him off and continued.

Once he got Frank’s socks off his feet, he stood up and helped tug Frank’s hoodie right off him, leaving his hair ruffed up and messy—Gerard smiled and didn’t straighten it—and leaving him in his t-shirt. He pulled Frank off the bed, unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and then tugged them down until they fell to Frank’s feet, and Frank simply stepped out of them. There was no sexual tension or desire, even in such close and intimate movements, because it wasn’t lust that carried Gerard’s hands through the motions, it was a desire to comfort, and that was all that radiated between them.

“Did you want sweats or something else to sleep in?” Gerard asked, glancing around the room that was just barely illuminated by the glow of the living room’s lamplight.

“This is good,” Frank shook his head. “Thanks.”

“I’m gonna go pee really quick,” Gerard said, stepping around Frank to pull the blankets aside so that Frank could crawl into bed with ease. It warmed Frank to see Gerard treating him with such care, providing him with that after-shock nurture that he thought he’d have to go without after seeing Aiden with his family. “Do you need anything?”

Frank shook his head and crawled into bed while Gerard left the room to go to the bathroom. He lay on his side and stared at the window of his room. There was no denying that Frank felt better with Gerard around; he just wished that Gerard’s presence was also able to eliminate that fear he felt when all he could hear was bullets. The moment Frank closed his eyes, his mind drifted back to the store, behind the counter, on the floor, waiting to die.

Frank groaned and held his hands over his face, wishing that the memory would diminish when he closed his eyes, not grow stronger. It felt as though he was really back in that moment—all that was missing was Aiden’s trembling body pressed against his.

A hand touched Frank’s elbow and he jolted, his body tensing and hands flying away from his face, to reveal his wide eyes. He calmed almost immediately when he saw that it was only Gerard, already back form the bathroom and stripped down to a t-shirt—one of Frank’s t-shirts that had been on the floor—and boxers, like Frank.

“Are you ok?” Gerard whispered, as if his voice would break Frank if it got any louder.

Frank looked Gerard right in the eyes and shook his head. “I was so scared,” he admitted. “I was so fucking scared, Gerard. I’ve never been fucking scared of dying, I never gave a shit if I died, but I was so fucking scared because you—me and you—the stupid fight, I didn’t wanna die with shit like that between us. I didn’t wanna die yet because I barely fucking got you and I lost you and—”

“Frank, it’s ok,” Gerard quickly cut him off. Frank sounded hysterical, rattling off the words with barely a breath in between them. Gerard crawled into bed next to Frank, and wrapped an arm around him, adjusting their bodies so that Frank’s forehead rested against Gerard’s chest. Gerard rubbed a soothing hand up and down Frank’s back. “It’s ok. We’re good now. And you’re ok and you didn’t lose me, you never lost me.”

“I just fucked up,” Frank sighed, one hand tucked under his own cheek and the other clutched tightly into the fabric of Gerard’s shirt, just over his stomach. “I acted so stupid that day and I overreacted—”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Gerard said. “It’s in the past.”

“I do,” Frank shook his head. “Because I was an asshole. I did get jealous and it’s not ok for me to get jealous and try to fucking stop you from seeing people. That’s not ok and you know it’s not.” Gerard stayed quiet, so Frank continued. “I was so, I don’t know, confused. I felt so…upset when you didn’t show up and, I mean, I was already jealous of Ray to be honest, so it’s like you said to me that day, I just made it all about you seeing Ray. It was really fucking stupid and I’m sorry.”

For a moment, Gerard couldn’t help but recall moments similar to this one yet entirely different: moments when Blake apologized to Gerard for overreacting. Gerard knew, though, that the one huge difference was that Frank would go through with his apology. Frank cared enough about _Gerard_ to apologize and seek to make sure that he never made the same mistake again, unlike Blake who simply cared about gaining Gerard’s trust long enough to betray it again. Gerard knew that Frank was different than Blake and yet he’d made such a comparison that day, knowing exactly how it would make Frank feel.

Gerard was about to speak, to say his part of the apology, because he knew that they both owed each other an apology, when Frank lifted his head up to look at him, eyebrows furrowed as though he was in deep physical pain.

“I didn’t wanna die while you hated me,” Frank said and Gerard could practically feel himself crack.

“Frank,” he gasped. “I…I didn’t hate you. I can’t hate you. I was mad and hurt, yeah, but I wouldn’t fucking hate you.”

“But how could you not?” Frank said. “I was acting exactly like Blake, and you said it, so how could you not hate me if you hate him? It’s ok if you hated me.”

“No,” Gerard shook his head, moving his hand from Frank’s back so that it could rest against Frank’s cheek. “You did act like him, I’ll admit that, but you aren’t like him. I said what I said because of the moment, because of all the fucking…anger we were both feeling, and just because you were doing something he used to do, doesn’t mean you’re like him. You’re nothing like him. I could never hate you ‘cause you’re not him.”

“Were you scared of me…turning into him?” Frank asked.

“I was,” Gerard nodded, “just for that moment, but I’m not anymore. You wouldn’t hurt me like he did, I trust you.”

“If I ever act like him again, tell me,” Frank said. “Ok? Promise me that.”

“Frank—”

“Just promise me,” Frank interrupted. “Please. I don’t ever wanna fucking put that thought into your head again so you have to promise me to tell me. I don’t wanna risk…I don’t know…If I die or some shit, I don’t want that to ever be how you see me.”

“Don’t say that,” Gerard sighed.

“Just promise,” Frank sighed right back.

“Ok,” Gerard gave in. “I promise.”

And then Frank was blatantly staring at Gerard’s lips because he yearned for the feel of them against his, that instant rush and comfort that they’d given him outside of the bullet-covered store. And then Gerard was giving in because he yearned for the exact same thing. Frank had to push himself up just slightly higher on the bed, so that their faces were more leveled, before he pressed his lips right against Gerard’s.

Gerard had a finger hooked under Frank’s chin, tipping his face up just slightly to perfect the angle, while Frank’s hand had slid from the front of Gerard’s shirt to his hip, fingers splayed out over the warm skin. The kiss was slow and languid, unlike the many previous kisses they’d shared. It was relaxed in a way that they were able to enjoy every slow part of it, every slight shifting of the angle of their faces, every swipe of a tongue over lips, and every small peck that followed a long open-mouthed exchange.

Gerard’s hand travelled from Frank’s chin to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Frank hummed softly when he felt Gerard add a slight suction to the pressure of the kiss he left on Frank’s bottom lip. Frank’s fingertips dug into the flesh on Gerard’s hip for just a second and then he released it and pulled his head back.

“We’re not supposed to be doing this,” Frank groaned, rolling onto his back. “We haven’t figured shit out yet.”

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed, still staring at Frank’s lips because he really hadn’t wanted to stop. Frank turned his head slightly and saw where Gerard’s gaze was and groaned again.

“I forgot how hard it was not to do shit,” Frank muttered, shifting onto his side so that his back was facing Gerard. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, scratching at the back of his scalp, and Gerard noticed Frank’s hand still trembling slightly. He knew that Frank’s mind was most likely still wandering to earlier that night; he knew the fear wouldn’t just disappear the moment he and Gerard were getting along again.

Gerard scooted closer to Frank, took Frank’s hand that was shaking in his hair, and held it in front of Frank’s chest.

“It’s okay, though,” Gerard spoke softly, his voice vibrating against Frank’s neck, causing him to shudder slightly. “Tonight, I mean…I think you need it.”

“W-What?” Frank breathed out, his body tense against Gerard’s.

Gerard answered with his lips pressing against the side of Frank’s neck, causing Frank’s entire body to loosen up as a shaky breath left his lips. Gerard slowly dragged his mouth down to the crook of Frank’s neck, in the same speed that his hand released Frank’s hand and slid down his stomach, to the waistband of Frank’s boxers.

Frank could already feel himself growing harder with just the _thought_ of Gerard touching him, much less actually doing it. When Gerard’s hand actually slipped into Frank’s boxers and took hold of him without any teasing whatsoever, a gasp ripped out of Frank, followed by a satisfied groan.

“Gerard,” Frank moaned, wrapping a hand around Gerard’s forearm. The little bit of logic he had left was telling him they should stop, but that logic was wearing thin.

“You need it,” Gerard whispered, placing a kiss behind Frank’s ear, his hand tight around Frank and pumping him slowly.

Frank couldn’t maintain the resistance any longer than that, so he released Gerard’s arm and turned his head slightly to catch Gerard’s lips in a kiss. It was short lived since all Frank could do at one point was pant into Gerard’s mouth, too focused on the sensations of Gerard’s hand on his dick to actually control his lips.

Gerard’s other arm was tucked beneath Frank, sliding up under Frank’s shirt, running softly over Frank’s stomach and chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind every inch of skin his fingers touched.

Frank was a shivering mess beside Gerard, his hands tangled into the sheets of the bed, his teeth gritted, and his eyes clenched tightly shut. He could feel Gerard everywhere, sensations rippling through every limb in his body.

Gerard suddenly clamped his lips around the skin on the back of Frank’s neck and sucked, causing Frank to throw his head back and gasp. Gerard’s mouth was torn away from Frank’s neck for only a moment, but he quickly went back to it.

Frank couldn’t understand how Gerard could continue the rhythm his hand had with his dick, while also successfully leaving a mark on Frank’s neck, when Frank couldn’t even focus on breathing with what Gerard was doing to him.

When Gerard pulled his mouth away, he licked at the mark that Frank was sure was there, and then trailed his tongue back around Frank’s neck, to his jaw, placing soft kisses there.

Frank reached behind him to tangle his fingers into Gerard’s hair and turned his head slightly, making sure to actually kiss him properly. He thrust his tongue into Gerard’s mouth, messily mingling with his.

Frank’s hips began moving of their own accord, pushing into Gerard’s grip on him, and in turn, brushing his ass against Gerard’s crotch. Gerard’s grip tightened considerably when Frank’s ass grinded roughly over his erection.

“Fuck,” Frank moaned, tightening his fingers in Gerard’s hair.

Gerard quickened the speed of his hand, Frank’s hips still aiding him in the process. He made sure that each stroke was fast, but long, going from the base to the tip every time. Frank was moaning softly on every exhale of his breath, feeling his body getting close to its finish already.

Gerard’s mouth was panting over Frank’s neck when he came, his entire body tensing up as his hips twitched forward, and his fingers tugging on Gerard’s hair. His moan was low and guttural as Gerard slowly stroked him through it, dragging it out as long as possible. He stopped when Frank’s entire body untensed and he practically collapsed into the bed. Even his hand that was wrapped tightly in strands of Gerard’s hair limply slipped away from Gerard and fell against the bed.

“Did that help?” Gerard asked, drawing his hand out of Frank’s boxers.

Frank nodded and hummed, his eyes slipping shut. He could have easily drifted off to sleep at that very moment had he not remembered that not too long ago, he’d felt Gerard’s hard dick behind him. Frank’s eyes flew open and he quickly rolled over, pushed Gerard onto his back, and settled himself on top of Gerard’s thighs.

Gerard simply placed his hands on Frank’s thighs and stared up at him, waiting. Frank tugged Gerard’s boxers down just enough to free his erection. Gerard anticipated Frank’s hand to wrap around his dick, but was surprised when Frank scooted further down until he was settled between Gerard’s legs, and bent down, not hesitating for a moment to take Gerard’s dick into his mouth.

“ _Oh_ , fuck,” Gerard moaned loudly, his knees automatically hitching up. Frank wasn’t taking any time to get straight to the point, his head already bobbing up and down, swiping his tongue every time he went up and hollowing his cheeks every time he went down. “Oh my God,” Gerard groaned. “Fucking hell, Frank…”

Frank groaned right back and Gerard could feel it vibrate against the tip of his dick since Frank had pulled up to suck on the head. Frank had one hand placed on the inside of Gerard’s thigh, keeping it pushed out and out of his way, and the other hand had slid up to the hem of Gerard’s shirt. He wanted to feel Gerard’s stomach quiver with every sharp intake of breath that he took.

Gerard let out a long moan that Frank was sure was supposed to contain words, but Gerard was past the point of sounding coherent. He was simply emitting moans that were just teetering on the edge of sounding like whines, and it drove Frank forward. He pulled his mouth completely off of Gerard so that he could lick a long line from the base to the tip, his eyes locked on Gerard as he did it.

Gerard wasn’t able to look at Frank the entire time. His head fell back against the bed and he simply moaned at the ceiling, a string of words like, “fuck…Frank…holy shit,” rolling out of his mouth like he couldn’t control them, until he came. He felt Frank stutter slightly when he first shot into his mouth, but then Frank’s mouth sucked and swallowed around Gerard’s dick, taking in every last drop while Gerard continued pushing his hips up towards Frank’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Gerard choked out as his orgasm died down slightly.

Frank loudly pulled his mouth off of Gerard’s dick and sat up, his hands on his own thighs, staring down at Gerard with satisfaction. Gerard’s eyes were still tightly shut and his shirt was ridden up just over his stomach. His chest was heaving with every deep breath he took and his mouth was still slack, hanging open. Frank smiled and readjusted Gerard’s boxers, which caused Gerard to finally open his eyes. He saw the smile on Frank’s face and immediately smiled back.

“That made my handjob look like shit,” Gerard said.

“Nothing could make that handjob look like shit,” Frank replied, leaning down to give Gerard a quick peck on the lips. He stood back up and got off the bed. “I need to change my underwear. I’d shower but I’m fucking tired.”

Gerard hummed and rolled onto his side, watching as Frank searched his drawer for a clean pair of underwear. He stripped of the ones he was wearing, using them to wipe his crotch down, before tossing them in a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. He pulled a clean pair out and slipped them on.

“My hand’s clean, but I don’t remember wiping it,” Gerard mused, looking at his hand, and then down at the bed. “You should probably wash your sheets.”

“Asshole,” Frank laughed, crawling into bed next to Gerard. They got back into the position they’d been in earlier, with Frank’s head resting against Gerard’s chest. “We suck at listening to our own fucking rules.”

“It’s ok,” Gerard smiled, running his fingers through Frank’s hair, sure to rub at Frank’s scalp the way he knew he liked it. “You just needed it tonight. I wanted you to relax.”

“It fucking worked,” Frank nodded, leaning his head back into Gerard’s hand.

The shooting, the days without Gerard, the fight…all of it seemed like a distant memory. The only thing that seemed tangible to Frank at that moment was how good he had just felt, how good he’d just made Gerard feel, and how amazingly soothing it was to have Gerard’s fingers running through his hair. He fell asleep like he didn’t have a care in the world.


	54. Chapter 53: Nothing at All

Frank woke up in the same peaceful state he’d slept in. Eyes still lazily shut, but mind more awake, he stretched his arm out, waiting to feel Gerard’s body next to his. His hand was only met with rumpled up sheets. He opened his eyes and found Gerard’s body just an inch away from his hand.

Gerard wasn’t laying down. He was sitting up, his legs hanging off the side of the bed, and his back towards Frank. His shoulders were slouched and the top of his head—clad in messy black hair—was barely visible to Frank.

Frank inched a bit closer until he could places his hand on Gerard’s back. Gerard’s loose body tensed for a moment before relaxing again as Frank ran his hand down Gerard’s clothed back, slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, and then ran back up to the middle of his back, feeling the warm skin against his palm.

“Morning,” Frank croaked after clearing his throat.

“Morning,” Gerard replied, sitting up slightly and leaning his back into Frank’s hand that was rubbing slow circles into Gerard’s skin.

“Lay down,” Frank said. He had spent far too much of his morning not seeing Gerard’s face and decided that that needed to change.

Gerard leaned forward first—away from Frank’s hand—to place his cell phone on the nightstand, and then lay comfortably next to Frank, on his side, giving Frank a full view of his still sleepy face. Frank shifted onto his side as well and couldn’t help the smile that crept up on him.

“How you feeling?” Gerard asked softly, tucking his hands beneath his own cheek.

“Still good,” Frank nodded. “Thanks to you.”

“Good,” Gerard smiled. “You were kind of moving a lot in your sleep. I think you were dreaming or something.”

“I don’t remember,” Frank shrugged, bringing his hand up to his mouth when he yawned. “I don’t remember having any dreams at all, really.”

“I dunno,” Gerard shrugged back. “But I was worried, but I didn’t know if I should have woken you up or not.”

“Sorry I woke you up,” Frank pursed his lips and furrowed his brows.

Gerard had to force himself not to just crawl right on top of him and kiss him all over. Instead he just stared, and with an entirely serious face, said, “You’re so fucking cute.”

Frank made a sound like he was about to speak, but instead let out a loud huff of breath, and stared down at the sheets, a subtle shade of pink on his cheeks. “Shut up,” he muttered.

Gerard laughed and sat up. “I’m gonna go make breakfast.”

“I don’t think there’s much to cook with,” Frank yawned again, rolling onto his back.

“Poptarts and coffee it is,” Gerard nodded. As usual, he was far too energetic for the morning. He hopped out of bed and hurried out of the bedroom.

Frank stretched his arms out to the side and then up towards the ceiling, feeling his entire body unwind. Just as he finished his stretch, Gerard walked back into the room.

“I need to call Mikey and let him know where I’m at,” he said, walking over to the nightstand and picking up his phone. He hurried back out of the room before Frank could say anything. Frank couldn’t understand how Gerard was already moving at full speed. He couldn’t even get his legs to move off of the bed.

Frank tried not to think too much while he lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. That was always impossible, though. His body was still half asleep, but his mind was already wide awake. Things felt far too good considering he had almost died the night before. It was strange how Gerard’s presence could dull out almost every negative thing Frank felt. Frank couldn’t believe he’d spent so long without Gerard after their argument. He couldn’t imagine his life without Gerard; he didn’t want to.

Frank desperately wanted to run out into the kitchen, epically confess everything he felt for Gerard, and promise him a life together forever. He wanted to. But he couldn’t. Emotionally, Frank still didn’t understand how things were supposed to work. He’d proven that quite well with his jealous outburst. He didn’t know what other emotions lurked inside him that would just come shooting out of him and possibly mess things up. His jealousy had gotten close to doing that. Mentally, he was just as unprepared. He still felt constantly unstable and unsure of himself and he wouldn’t drag Gerard into that. When and if Frank decided to move things along with Gerard, he wanted to be absolutely sure of himself. He wanted it to go smoothly and without trouble. He wanted to make things as easy as possible for Gerard and keep the difficulties in his life at a minimum.

Frank wondered if Gerard understood that. Gerard was so patient, willing to actually wait for Frank to figure out his own mind, but Frank wondered if he knew where Frank was coming from. Without pondering those thoughts for too long, Frank got himself out of bed, and decided to make sure Gerard understood instead of just thinking about it.

Frank walked into the kitchen, ready to rattle off a speech of how much Gerard meant to him and that that was the reason they had to wait. He froze at the kitchen’s entrance, though, when he found Gerard leaning against the sink, a perplexed expression on his face. He was staring down at the sink that was filled with a countless number of empty beer bottles. There were far too many of them to be considered normal. There were a few others scattered on the counter as well. Frank wanted to turn right back around and hide in his room.

“Frank, are you…” Gerard began to speak, not looking up, simply knowing Frank was there. He was keeping his voice calm. He had to get straight to the point. “Is this…uh…do you have a problem? With drinking?”

Frank struggled to find his voice for almost a minute, but Gerard simply waited. He was patient, as always.

“N-Not really,” was all Frank managed to stutter out.

“This kind of looks like a problem,” Gerard replied right away. He finally lifted his gaze away from the empty bottles and onto Frank.

“I know, but it’s just…it’s not, like, a problem or whatever,” Frank rambled, avoiding Gerard’s gaze. “I like drinking, you know? It’s just…it’s whatever.”

“Frank,” Gerard sighed. Frank was busy distracting himself with the view of his feet that he was surprised when Gerard’s own feet were in front of his. He looked up and found Gerard standing right in front of him, an unbelievably soft expression on his face. “You don’t need to lie to me. I’m not gonna, like, freak out. Or judge you. Or anything. I just…wanna know what you’re dealing with…if you’re ok.”

“I…” Frank wanted to look away from Gerard, like usual. He wanted to escape that determined gaze. He couldn’t, though, because he believed in everything Gerard said. Gerard wouldn’t judge him, or reprimand him; he would just try to understand. “It’s just…I don’t know what to say…”

Gerard gave Frank a gentle smile and said, “Go sit and I’ll get our breakfast, alright?”

Frank took a deep breath and nodded. He left the kitchen, collapsing into the sofa and scrubbing at his face. He’d promised Gerard honesty and openness, so he had to be open with him. He just didn’t know how to go about it. He didn’t how to explain things to Gerard when he hardly understood them himself.

When Gerard came out into the living room, toasted Poptarts on a plate and one big mug of coffee, Frank didn’t even notice him. His hands were still over his face and he was far too gone into his own mind. Gerard left the plate and mug on the table and sat next to Frank.

Frank sat up straight and pulled his hands away from his face when he finally felt Gerard next to him.

“Frank, relax,” Gerard said, taking one of Frank’s hands into his own. Frank turned to look at him. “I’m sorry if I’m freaking you out by asking, I—”

“No, no,” Frank quickly shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. I am, I’m sorry for—”

“You don’t either,” Gerard smiled. He brought his other hand up to the side of Frank’s head, running his fingers through the tangles of hair. “No fucking apologies, alright?”

“I was supposed to be open with you about shit,” Frank shrugged.

“Didn’t I tell you I don’t expect you to change overnight?” Gerard said, dropping his hand from Frank’s hair to his shoulder. “I meant it.”

“Why are you so…so perfect…” Frank sighed. “How the fuck do you have patience for me?”

“I’m not perfect,” Gerard said, still smiling. “And I’ve told you before, it’s because I care.”

“That much?”

“I think we’ve had this conversation before,” Gerard laughed. “Yes, that much.”

Frank sat back into the sofa, his head falling back so that he faced the ceiling. Gerard sat back and sat cross legged next to him, at a comfortable distance, his knee touching Frank’s thigh, letting him know he was there.

“I do it ‘cause I feel…weird when I’m alone,” Frank spoke to the ceiling. “I used to be totally alone, you know? Before I met you? Like, I would go work and then come home. Sometimes I’d see Hambone, but that was it. And that felt totally ok…it was what I wanted, so for sure it felt fucking ok. But now, it’s weird. I dunno. When I’m alone, all I can think about is how it doesn’t…it’s not…how I’d rather have you there. Like, being lonely doesn’t fucking feel good anymore ‘cause it’s better when you’re there, you know? I hate the way it feels when I’m alone, so I drink to make it feel…different.”

It was silent for a few moments, and Gerard had begun to speak, but Frank quickly cut him off.

“I didn’t tell you because, well, I didn’t know how, but also because…you don’t need to feel like you should be with me all the fucking time just ‘cause I’m an idiot that can’t handle being alone without drinking. I mean I wouldn’t mind being with you all the time, trust me, but you can’t stop your shit just to comfort me, you know? I just need to…I dunno…learn how to live like this now.”

“Is it bad?” Gerard asked.

“What do you mean?” Frank turned his head slightly to look at Gerard.

“I mean how much do you drink usually? How bad is it?”

“I dunno,” Frank shrugged, looking back to the ceiling. “It used to be, like, one day I would and one I wouldn’t. And just a couple of bottles just ‘cause I was used to it. But then it just got pretty random. Like especially this last week, I just always fucking needed a drink, so it was pretty much every night and however much I could handle.”

Gerard hummed and grew silent, which caused Frank to grow nervous because it was rare for Gerard to be silent and Frank had thought he would have something to say. Frank turned his face to look at Gerard again, and saw that he was just staring ahead with a thoughtful expression. He was thinking, definitely, and Frank was itching to know what.

“What are you thinking?” Frank asked bluntly.

“I’m thinking if I should be flattered or guilty that you drink ‘cause I’m not here,” Gerard said, keeping his eyes forward. His smile was softer and there was some seriousness to his words.

“Flattered,” Frank decided for him. “There’s nothing to be guilty about.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No but’s,” Frank quickly interrupted him. “The fact that I drink ‘cause you’re not here is all on me.”

Gerard nodded and continued staring ahead, that small smile still on his face. Frank knew that Gerard was troubled by Frank’s addiction; that’s just who Gerard was: someone who thought constantly of other people’s well-being.

“Do you think you wanna…” Gerard paused, looking down at his lap and twiddling his fingers. “Do you wanna get better maybe?”

“Hell yeah I do,” Frank sighed, running a hand through his hair. Gerard wasn’t looking at him, but he kept his eyes on Gerard; it was a strange reversal of roles. “I just don’t know how…”

“You wanna try together?” Gerard finally looked at Frank. “I don’t know how we would do it, but, like, we could try. I’ll help you.” Frank just blinked at Gerard, which made Gerard feel like it wasn’t a good idea. “Or not. If you wanna do it alone, I’d get that. That’s totally—”

“Obviously alone isn’t working for me,” Frank laughed, shaking his head. “I just don’t wanna put you through my shit.”

“We may not be together-together,” Gerard shrugged. “But I mean, we’re together. We get through shit together. You know what I mean?”

“Ok, I’m just…” Frank ran both his hands over his face and then dropped them both into his lap. “I’m just gonna go ahead and kiss you right now and then after that, we can try that whole ‘nothing physical’ rule again, alright?”

He didn’t wait for Gerard to answer. He simply braced one hand on the back of Gerard’s neck, pulled him down, and their mouths met, ready for each other; they had become familiar territory to one another. Gerard’s tongue knew to toy with Frank’s lip ring in order to leave him groaning and clutching at Gerard’s hair; and Frank knew to gently nip at Gerard’s bottom lip every once in a while to earn himself a sighed moan. Gerard knew that when Frank tugged gently on his hair it was because he wanted more, and Frank knew that Gerard’s hands wandering from his back, to his shoulders, to his chest, were seeking more as well. And they both knew that the more they gave themselves, the harder it would be to stop. So they both stopped when they began to grow breathless.

When they pulled away, Frank’s hands were laced behind Gerard’s neck, having left his hair a mess, and Gerard’s hands had made up their mind, one clutched to Frank’s hip and one resting on his thigh. They allowed their foreheads to rest together, their long and drawn out breaths meeting to mingle in between them.

“Thank you,” Frank sighed, keeping his hands in place, but pulling his head away to look at Gerard properly. “I would fucking love for you to help me with this. I don’t know how it’ll go…”

“But we’ll try,” Gerard nodded. “And you always told me it’s nothing whenever I thanked you, so…it’s nothing.”


	55. Chapter 54: Promises for Tomorrow

“No, nothing like this has ever happened,” Frank sighed into the phone. “There were no weird customers or any problems to make this happen. It was completely random.”

Gerard was on the sofa staring up at Frank, who was pacing back and forth across the living room, his phone pressed to his ear and his hand clutched into the back of his hair. He was on the phone with his boss, discussing the shooting, and Gerard was watching him carefully, making sure he was alright enough to talk about it.

“I don’t know how much damage was done, I haven’t looked at it,” Frank said. “I don’t know when I can go back—”

Gerard cleared his throat when he heard that, but Frank went on with his conversation.

“I think that’s up to the cops. But as soon as I can go, I think I can calculate the stock damage. I don’t know about the property damage, but the stock damage I can do.”

Gerard cleared his throat again, but there was still no reaction from Frank.

“Oh, ok, the insurance will cover all the property damage anyways, right?” Frank nodded silently for a few seconds. “Well, how long do you think it’ll be before we can actually open again?”

“Frank,” Gerard finally spoke, losing his patience.

Frank stopped pacing and turned to look at Gerard. “Uh, I’m sorry, sir, one second.” Frank held the phone against his chest and whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“You are not about to do all this shit,” Gerard said. “You’re seriously talking about going back to work already? You—”

“Shhh,” Frank put a finger to his lips and then pointed at the phone. “Keep your voice down.”

“No,” Gerard said sternly. “You’re fucking crazy. You need a break.”

“I’m fine, ok? Don’t worry—”

“You don’t know if you’re fine yet!” Gerard exclaimed. “It literally just happened last night, it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours. You can’t just—”

“Gerard, I’m fine, I’ll be ok,” Frank said before lifting the phone back to his ear. “Sorry about that, sir, I—” He paused and blinked at Gerard while he listened to what was being said on the phone. “No, that was…uh, a friend.”

“Does he wanna talk to me?” Gerard asked, knowing Frank’s boss was probably asking about him. “I’ll have a conversation with him, I don’t mind.”

Frank sighed and held the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “No, he’s…he helped me out last night. He’s…pretty much family.” Frank laughed lightly. “Yeah, I don’t say much about my real family.” Frank’s expression had softened from the anxious and stressed look he’d had on earlier. There was a light smile on his face as he listened to the phone and stared at Gerard. “I feel fine, but—yeah, I guess he doesn’t want me to work yet. But really, sir, I feel like I can go—” Frank took another long pause. “Ok, yeah, I’ll let him know, and I’m sure he’d want me to thank you…I’ll be waiting for your call…Thank you…You, too. Bye.”

Frank hung up the phone and stared at Gerard, who had on a content look.

“He’s making you take a break, isn’t he?” Gerard asked smugly.

Frank rolled his eyes and crossed the living room, plopping down into the sofa next to Gerard. “You’re as stubborn as ever, fucker.”

“I can’t believe you were actually gonna go back to work,” Gerard shook his head. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“I feel ok,” Frank shrugged.

“Yeah, _now_. But you don’t know how you will be tomorrow, or when you go back to the store. Oh and what if some shit like that happens again?? You don’t even know why it happened, so whoever did it could do it again.”

Gerard was getting a lot more worked up than Frank was. While Frank sat slouched in the sofa, his body limp and relaxed, Gerard was literally on the edge of his seat, talking with animated gestures, and rattling off his words at full speed.

“Gerard,” Frank spoke calmly. “It’s fine. I won’t go back for a while. He said to call him in a couple of weeks.”

“Ok, I guess that’s good,” Gerard sighed, sitting back into the sofa. “Did your boss get mad? Sorry I went off like that…”

“No,” Frank laughed. “He said he’s fucking glad to know I’m human and that I actually interact with people. He’s never heard me mention people in my life.”

“Ok, I like this guy,” Gerard nodded. “Next time you try to be a stupid workaholic, I’m taking his number and calling him myself.”

**

Gerard had to leave Frank’s apartment to go work a late shift since he had missed that morning. They made promises to each other before they parted: Frank promised to contact Gerard, even if it was just a few text messages venting his feelings, whenever he felt the need for alcohol, and Gerard promised to be practical and not drop everything around him in order to tend to Frank’s needs. They both believed that even if Frank was just sending a few texts, letting out whatever he felt, it would help; there was the possibility that Gerard wouldn’t reply due to work or sleep, but having Frank’s thoughts somewhere other than his own head may keep him away from the alcohol. They could only hope.

While saying their goodbyes, Frank glued himself to the door so that he didn’t wrap his arms around Gerard instead.

For the rest of Frank’s day, he felt alright; he’d definitely been better. The loneliness seemed magnified with the events that had taken place the night before. Being alone didn’t only feel bad, it suddenly felt dangerous, like something bad would happen to him at any given moment and he wouldn’t be able to see Gerard before it did. There was a constant uneasy feeling in his stomach and he thought he would be able to ease it by visiting his fridge, but he managed to resist.

Frank kept himself distracted with his guitar for a long while. He kept thinking about texting Gerard. If he did, though, he would prove to Gerard that he couldn’t handle things at all, and Gerard would just worry more than he already did. So Frank resisted that as well. He ended up asleep on the sofa when he tried to uselessly be entertained by the TV.

And then he ended up awake when he felt his phone vibrating underneath him. He groaned and rolled onto his side so that he could fish the phone out from under his back. The phone was clumsily swatted to the floor and the vibrating could no longer be heard or felt, so Frank ignored it and began to doze off again, until he heard loud knocks on his door. He jolted upright, his hair covering most of his face.

At first, he thought he may have imagined it, so he began to lay down again, but the knocking resumed, so he clambered off the couch, stumbling over his legs and feet, until he could finally stand straight. He scrubbed at his sleepy eyes, pushing his hair back and away from them, and bent over to pick up his phone that was still vibrating on the floor. Gerard’s ID was flashing on the screen, the knocking on the door was still going, and the time read two in the morning, so Frank was suddenly wide awake. He dropped his phone to the floor and leapt to the door, fighting for a moment with the lock, and then swinging it open.

Gerard stood at the door, phone held lazily to his ear. He didn’t give Frank time to ask questions, not about why he was there so late, or why he had an obviously busted lip and bruise on his cheek, because he had launched himself at Frank.

Gerard’s arms rested over Frank’s shoulders, hands coming together at his back, holding Frank’s body against his while his slightly bloody lip collided with Frank’s. Frank couldn’t help but comply, getting swept up in the rushed way that Gerard’s tongue was sweeping against his own. He only snapped out of it when his mouth finally detected the taste of blood. Planting his hands firmly on Gerard’s chest, he pushed him back, enough to separate their lips.

“Gerard,” he gasped, “what the fuck is going on? What happened to you?”

“No questions,” Gerard shook his head. “Not now, please.” He pushed back against Frank’s hands until their lips were once again connected. Frank tried to protest, but Gerard’s mouth against his proved to be a difficult obstacle to surpass.

Gerard maneuvered them slightly until he had Frank pressed against the wall and he used that as leverage to grind their crotches together. Frank gasped and threw his head back, thudding loudly when it hit the wall. Gerard took that opportunity to nip and lick messily at the tattoos on Frank’s neck, panting heavily between kisses. Frank could do nothing other than groan, his eyes shut tight.

“G-Gerard,” he choked out. One hand was planted on the wall behind him, and the other was on Gerard’s shoulder, clutching tightly, debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. “Fuck, Gerard…”

“Just let me,” Gerard sighed against Frank’s tingling neck. He pulled his head back and finally looked Frank in the eyes. Looking past the scarred lip and bruised cheek, Gerard looked sad. Frank couldn’t explain it, but he just looked sad; his eyes were swimming with it. “I really…I fucking need this right now.”

Frank couldn’t say no, even if he just wanted to know what happened…Gerard had comforted him the night before, and now it was up to him to do the same. He’d give Gerard absolutely anything he wanted.

“Just close the door,” Frank nodded his heads toward his wide open front door. Gerard actually smiled, which was enough to calm Frank down and keep him from asking questions.

Gerard stepped away from Frank in order to shut the door and lock it, and then he was grabbing Frank by the hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. Frank simply followed along with no questions, just as Gerard wanted.

The moment they stepped into the room, Gerard released Frank’s hand and began clawing at his shirt. Frank helped, lifting it up and off, and then their mouths were together again. They couldn’t seem to move from where they were stationed. Gerard’s hands were roaming Frank’s bare back, running down to the hem of his boxers, pressing against his ass through the fabric to move their bodies even closer together.

Frank’s mouth travelled to Gerard’s neck, while his hands fumbled with the zipper of Gerard’s sweater until he was able to get it off. He pulled his mouth away from Gerard’s neck for a moment to focus on actually getting Gerard undressed. He quickly slipped the sweater off and then pulled his shirt up. Gerard helped get it the rest of the way off. Frank dipped his head and kissed at Gerard’s chest, making a wet trail from Gerard’s chest, to his stomach, and then back up to his neck.

Gerard’s hands were clamped over Frank’s shoulders the entire time, releasing whiny moans for Frank to continue. Those small moans pushed Frank further than Gerard could even comprehend.

“Bed,” Frank mumbled against Gerard’s lips.

Gerard nodded frantically and they finally made their way to the bed. Frank sat down on the edge, but before Gerard could crawl over him, Frank placed a hand on his chest and kept him standing while he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He struggled pulling them down; the jeans were practically glued to Gerard’s skin.

“Holy fuck, these are tight,” Frank groaned, sighing when he finally got them past Gerard’s ass.

“Sorry,” Gerard chuckled, bending over to help get them the rest of the way off. Frank just gave up and sat back to watch Gerard, who had to pause and take off his shoes and socks first, then finally be free of his unbelievably tight jeans.

When he stood back up, Frank sighed, “Finally,” and wrapped his arms around Gerard’s back, dragging his tongue up the middle of Gerard’s chest to the side of his neck, and ending it with kisses behind Gerard’s ear. He had Gerard shivering in his arms.

Gerard lay Frank down on the bed when he could compose himself long enough to actually move his limbs, and didn’t waste any time in grinding against Frank, the thin fabric of their underwear doing nothing to subside the pleasure they felt.

“Oh, fuck,” Gerard moaned, burying his head into Frank’s neck, biting gently at the crook of his neck.

Frank moaned right back, his hands over Gerard’s hips, fingers just barely beneath his underwear, feeling every shift of his muscles as Gerard ground his hips down.

“Gerard,” Frank panted, digging his nails into Gerard’s flesh. “Fuck. You need…get these off.”

Gerard nodded into Frank’s neck and sat up and off of Frank so he could pull his own boxers down while Frank did the same. Once they were both finally free of all clothing, Gerard grabbed Frank’s hand and pulled him up to him, settling them down so that Frank was on top.

Their bodies practically sank into each other, feeling skin on skin with nothing in between. There were no boundaries and no limitations. Frank’s mind was still flooding with questions, but Gerard’s body against his didn’t let his thoughts wander for too long.

Gerard reached between the two of them and took hold of both their erections, pressing them together and gently, slowly running them both through his hand, from base to tip. Frank gasped loudly and released a shaky breath, his back arched and his head up.

“God,” he moaned. “Fuck, keep…that. Do that.”

Gerard continued doing exactly that and used his other hand to grab Frank by the back of the head and pull his face down to his, engaging in an exchange that consisted of mostly tongues as they groaned into each other’s mouths.

Frank wrenched his mouth away from Gerard; he needed to advance things; he needed so much more.

While still on top of Gerard, and with Gerard’s hand sitting still around their erections, Frank reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the condoms and lube he’d had from last time. He took Gerard’s hand that was resting on his back and was about to put some lube onto his fingers when Gerard stopped him.

“W-Wait, Frank,” Gerard said, bringing his other hand up to take the lube from Frank. Frank sighed softly at the loss of contact between his dick and Gerard’s hand. “I wanted…this time, can you, uh…”

Gerard was avoiding Frank’s gaze, staring instead at the lube in his hand. He was biting his lip nervously.

“What is it?” Frank asked.

“I wanted you to, uh…” Gerard took a deep breath and finally looked Frank in the eyes, both of their eye brows furrowed—Frank’s with confusion and Gerard’s with nerves. “This time, I wanted you to be the one…instead of me…God.” He groaned loudly at himself and finally blurted, “I wanted you to be the one fucking me this time.”

Frank was definitely not expecting that. He’d already done things without questioning Gerard’s physical state even though it was killing him with concern, but that was too much.

“Gerard,” Frank shook his head, pushing himself up slightly. “You know why—I—you know why I can’t—we can’t do it like that.”

“It’s ok, Frank,” Gerard sighed. “It’s different now. It’s ok.”

“I can’t,” Frank shook his head again. “I can’t do that to you ag—”

“You’re not doing anything again,” Gerard spoke calmly. “This time, I want it. I’m asking you to do it.”

“It’s still…” Frank said. “We can’t.”

“Please,” Gerard begged. He was actually begging. Frank just couldn’t understand why he would want something that held such negative memories. Frank wanted to leave it far behind and never remind himself of it again.

“Why would you want that?” Frank asked out loud.

“Because…” Gerard shook his head and brought a hand up to scrub at his face. He held it over his face for a couple of seconds as he took a few deep breaths, keeping half of his face hidden from Frank. “I want to move the fuck on, Frank,” Gerard finally spoke, his voice shaky. “I want to be done with all that bull shit in the past. It’s all fucking done, it’s done, so I wanna be done with it. I’m just—I hate being fucking, like, limited by it. We’re done with that, we’ve moved on, we’ve changed so fucking much, so why is it still stopping us? I hate it. I hate being held back by it. I wanna leave it the fuck behind. I’m so tired, Frank, I’m so fucking tired of being stuck in the past. I wanna move on. I’m just so fucking—”

Frank wanted Gerard to stop. He sounded like he was about to cry and Frank did not want to see Gerard cry. So he stopped him with a firm kiss on his lips. Gerard kissed him back and then removed his hand from his face when Frank pulled his face away.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do it,” Frank said. “I don’t wanna see you...just don’t be…don’t be sad. If it’ll make you happy, I’ll do it.”

“I’m sorry if it’s making you uncomfortable,” Gerard sighed.

“It’s not,” Frank shook his head. “I’m fucking fine with anything as long as you are. You just gotta guide me through this so I do it right.”

Gerard’s eyes went glossy for a moment, and Frank would have been worried if it wasn’t for the fact that they were accompanied by a smile.

“Thank you,” Gerard sighed before pulling Frank down for another a kiss, a much longer one. Gerard’s hand found Frank’s and left the bottle of lube there, urging him to move things forward. Frank got the hint, ended the kiss with one last peck, and sat up. He sat on his knees in between Gerard’s knees, which were propped up around him.

He took deep breaths as he put a large amount of lube onto his fingers. He figured it was better to have too much than not enough.

“This shouldn’t take long,” Gerard said, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over his dick which caused Frank’s own dick to twitch in anticipation. “You don’t have to, like, spend a lot of time, you know, since I’ve done it before.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. He used one hand to spread Gerard’s cheeks open, and slowly slipped his index finger in, keeping his eyes locked on Gerard’s face. Gerard’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft sigh.

“Go ahead, more” Gerard nodded, his voice tight.

“Already?” Frank asked.

Gerard hummed and nodded, so Frank took to his words and added another finger.

“Fuck,” Gerard sighed, sounding breathless already. “Yeah, just…move them a little.”

Frank once again followed Gerard’s directions, and shifted his fingers slightly, sliding them outwards and then right back in.

“G-Go ahead, spread ‘em,” Gerard groaned, his fingers having left his dick and just resting right next to it, like he was teasing himself. Frank’s mouth was going dry with anticipation.

Frank spread his fingers, feeling Gerard stretch around him. He could feel the way the tension was slowly leaving Gerard’s opening, growing accustom, and ready to have Frank inside him.

“Ok,” Gerard nodded, opening his eyes. “Fuck, just go now.”

“A-Already? You’re sure?”

“Mhm,” Gerard sighed through his nose. His eyes were half-lidded; his entire body was relaxed. “I don’t like to be, like, fully stretched out, you know? I want there to be a little stretch when you go in.”

“Fuck,” Frank groaned because just hearing Gerard talk the way he was was turning him on and sending even more blood rushing to his erection. “O-Ok, yeah, ok.”

Frank pulled his fingers out, Gerard releasing a small whimper when he did, and wiped his hands on the sheets. He quickly got a condom, tore the wrapper off, and rolled it onto his dick. He was so hard and so turned on, he felt like he may have come just from that. He got more lube, applied it onto the condom, and then settled himself over Gerard, holding the tip of his erection right at Gerard’s entrance.

“Thank you,” Gerard spoke softly, “for doing this for me.”

Frank simply nodded and gave him a quick kiss before finally easing himself into Gerard. It wasn’t too much of a struggle, but he could feel the way Gerard was still slightly tense around him, and how the tension slowly relaxed around him. There was that slight stretch that was still left for Gerard to make, and he felt it, heard it in the way Gerard moaned beneath him. He clenched his eyes tightly shut and fought off the urge to just thrust hard and fast into Gerard because he felt so _good_. He couldn’t contain the loud moan that left his mouth, though, and he dropped his forehead to Gerard’s shoulder, gnawing at his bottom lip, and digging his fingers into his bed sheets.

“Move,” Gerard groaned. “Go ahead.”

“Fuck,” Frank sighed in relief, finally pulling back and thrusting back in, intensifying the pleasures he was already feeling. He and Gerard moaned in unison the first time and then Frank’s moans and groans were muffled by Gerard’s neck which he had taken to biting.

After the first few thrusts, Frank lifted himself up, giving himself more leverage to make his thrusts stronger. He reached back and hooked his arm around Gerard’s knee, pulling it up close to his body, giving him a better angle to go deeper. Gerard’s neck arched back and Frank could see his Adams apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“I-Is that good? Is it good?” Frank panted, feeling Gerard clench even tighter around him.

“S’good,” Gerard nodded, his voice high and tight, barely audible. He still had his head back, leaving only his neck and chin to face Frank. “Yeah, so good…fuck.”

Frank used his free hand to bring Gerard’s face down and leave a few kisses on his mouth, groaning into every kiss. Gerard brought his other leg up and wrapped it around Frank, so Frank released his leg so that he could wrap them both around Frank, his thighs clenching tight against his hips, giving him leverage to lift up into Frank’s thrusts.

Frank had his elbows resting on either side of Gerard’s face, and he thrust faster into Gerard, stronger, Gerard’s hips meeting with his on every thrust. They were both sweating, skin sliding against each other, the room filled with their moans, occasional shouts of names and curses; it was all overwhelming, and Frank found that his release was creeping close, ready to surge through him. He wanted to hold off; he’d craved this closeness with Gerard and resisted it for so long, he wanted it to last.

With Gerard suddenly clenching around his dick, as well as his ankles crossing tighter at Frank’s back, and him letting out a loud and guttural, “ _Fuck yeah, Frank, there_ ,” Frank found himself coming hard, his entire body jolting with it. His body collapsed onto Gerard as his hips twitched forward, giving Gerard a couple more thrusts that he could manage.

Gerard’s legs stayed wrapped around him as he came down from his orgasm-high, his choked out moans dying down into nothing but long and drawn out breaths. He was about to pull out of Gerard, when he felt Gerard’s legs tighten around him.

“W-Wait,” Gerard said. “Just—ah—a second.”

Frank was so spaced out from how hard his orgasm had hit him that he didn’t even notice Gerard jerking himself off between them. Frank lifted himself up on one elbow and used his free hand to reach between them, nudging Gerard’s hand out of the way, and jerking him off instead.

He made it quick, knowing by the way that Gerard was moaning on every quick breath he took, that he was close. He kept his fist tight around Gerard as he jacked him off as fast as he could, his arm growing sore at one moment from the speed, but continuing nonetheless. Gerard’s breaths were speeding up like the pace of Frank’s hand and he had his eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open.

“Shit…fuck…” he panted as his legs tightened around Frank and his entire body tensed, ready to release. Frank gave him one last sharp stroke, twisting his hand slightly, and Gerard’s body jerked up when his orgasm hit. “F-Frank,” he gasped, his blunt nails scraping across Frank’s shoulder blades and his ankles slipping against each other where they were crossed.

Frank gave him long and slow strokes through the orgasm. Gerard’s body shivered every few seconds as his orgasm passed through him. His body completely gave out once the orgasm was through. His legs unwound from around Frank and his arms lay flat against the bed as he panted heavily, his chest heaving right against Frank’s.

Frank reached down between them so that he could slowly pull out of Gerard. He hissed at the sensitivity that just hit him now, and Gerard breathed sharply through his nose when Frank was completely out of him, then they relaxed again. Frank rolled the condom off and tied it, muttering, “Take care of that shit later,” as he let it fall over the edge of the bed. He had absolutely no energy to do anything other than lay on top of Gerard, so he did just that.

They were a mess of sweat and Gerard’s cum between them, yet they felt the most comfortable than they had for as long as they could remember. Their legs were tangled within one another, Frank’s hands were tucked comfortably between his face and Gerard’s chest, and Gerard’s hands were alternating between lightly caressing Frank’s back and running through his hair.

“Thanks, Frank,” Gerard broke the silence, his voice sounding wrecked.

“Can’t thank me for something if I enjoyed it, too,” Frank replied lazily. He rolled off of Gerard, but only so that he could lay on his side and tuck himself into Gerard’s embrace.

“So you enjoyed it?” Gerard asked lazily, one arm wrapped around Frank and the other searching beside him for a blanket.

“Of course, fuck yeah,” Frank answered. “I just never wanted to…you know…”

“Yeah,” Gerard sighed. “I know.”

Gerard’s hand finally came across a blanket that wasn’t trapped beneath their lazy bodies and pulled it over them. He could faintly see that it was the Star Wars blanket he’d bought Frank and he thought it was perfectly fitting.

“Promise to talk about what happened in the morning?” Frank asked through a yawn.

“Promise,” Gerard nodded.

Frank leaned up, getting one last look at Gerard’s face, gave him a short peck on the lips, and then snuggled back into Gerard’s side.


	56. Chapter 55: Revisiting the Past

Frank woke up to an empty bed. He had barely opened his eyes and stretched his arm out, hoping to latch onto Gerard for just a few more seconds, when his hand met with the sheets. He sat upright, his immediate thought being that Gerard had left early in order to avoid Frank’s questions. That didn’t seem like Gerard at all, though, and Frank’s theory was quickly dismissed by the sound of the water in his kitchen turning on. He sighed and fell back into bed, scrubbing the sleep out of his half-lidded eyes.

Finally feeling awake enough to begin questioning Gerard, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

Gerard was standing in the kitchen, his back towards the entrance, busy making himself a cup of coffee. He was in a t-shirt and sweats that both belonged to Frank. His hair was standing in various directions, defying gravity in the way that some strands stood straight up.

Frank cleared his throat so that he wouldn’t startle him and Gerard turned around, a steaming mug in his hand. He smiled at Frank and mumbled, “Morning,” into his cup before taking a long sip. Frank walked up to him, waited until Gerard pulled away from his mug, swallowing happily and smacking his lips slightly to taste the coffee, and then placed his hand on his cheek. Gerard flinched at first so Frank softened his touch. Frank brushed his fingers over the bruise that had darkened since the night before. It had been simply red and swollen just a bit, but it had darkened into a dark mixture of purple and red, paired with even more swelling. Frank allowed his fingers to slide down to the scratch on Gerard’s bottom lip; it wasn’t as bad, it had simply scabbed over overnight.

“So what happened?” Frank asked, pulling his hand back. Even though he gave Gerard what he wanted, part of him regretted doing so without getting any answers first. Something serious could have happened to Gerard and Frank had allowed it to simply skate by.

“Oh, man, questions already? You’re not even fully awake,” Gerard smiled.

“Gerard,” Frank sighed, scrubbing at his own face with the hand that had been touching Gerard. Gerard took a lot of things lightly; Frank had to get used to that. “You promised you—”

“I would answer your questions,” Gerard nodded, pulling Frank’s hand away from his face and holding it in his. “And I will. Just get some coffee in you. You’re, like, only half awake.”

“Fine,” Frank rolled his eyes.

Gerard smiled and left the kitchen, sipping happily at his coffee, while Frank prepared his own cup. Gerard seemed unnervingly calm, so Frank tried not to let his mind wander too much and come up with ridiculous ideas of what may have happened. He was mostly successful, so by the time he’d walked into the living room with a cup of coffee, he was calm for the most part.

“Ok, what happened?” Frank asked, taking a seat on the sofa beside Gerard. “No more stalling.”

Gerard was sitting with his back against the armrest and his knees folded up in front of him. Frank took a seat in front of his legs, resting his arm and coffee atop Gerard’s knees.

“You’re gonna freak the fuck out, but it’s not a big deal, ok?” Gerard said, staring at his mug instead of Frank.

“Let’s hear it,” Frank urged.

“Well, uh, where should I start…” Gerard took a sip of his coffee and then resumed staring at the cup. “Well…basically…ah, ok, so Blake is pretty much the one who shot at your store.”

That was definitely not what Frank was expecting and it caused him to choke and sputter on the sip of coffee he’d just taken.

“W-What the fuck?!” Frank managed after a coughing fit. His mouth just hung open as he stared at Gerard, who, once again, was unbelievably calm.

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d go that far either,” Gerard shrugged, his eyes still downcast.

“How—what—are you fucking kidding me?”

Gerard shook his head, catching a stray drop of coffee with his index finger and wiping it off on the shirt he was wearing, which belonged to Frank; Frank would have cared if he had done it at any moment other than this one.

“He texted me that night, but I didn’t see it till the morning, and yeah…”

“What the fuck did he say?”

“I don’t remember exactly,” Gerard shrugged. “He was just like that I shouldn’t have left the way I left, and that it was up to him to decide when shit was done. And so the shooting was his way of deciding it was done. I was so fucking mad, I—”

“Oh my God, you went to him last night, didn’t you?” Frank suddenly sat up, realization finally hitting him. “That’s why you were the way you were. Fuck, Gerard, you could have told me! You should have! You shouldn’t have gone by your fucking self after everything he’s done!”

“Frank,” Gerard spoke calmly. “I’m fine. One bruise and a cut. I’ve had worse.”

“He could have done worse,” Frank shook his head, leaning over and leaving his coffee on the table. He reached over and tried to lift Gerard’s shirt. “Did he hit you anywhere else? I didn’t check you last night at all. Did he hurt you anywhere? I swear to God I’m gonna kill this fucking asshole for touching you again, Gerard, I can’t believe you just went to him alone and—”

“Frank!” Gerard exclaimed, swatting Frank’s hand away. Frank stopped freaking out for a moment and looked at Gerard, who was finally looking directly at him. “I’m fine. You need to listen to me.”

“I’m sorry I just…he’s hurt you before, Gerard,” Frank sighed. “I’ve seen how bad he’s hurt you.”

“And he didn’t this time,” Gerard shook his head. “I’m not weak like I used to be.”

“What if he did, though? I should have at least gone with you.”

“Why?” Gerard raised eyebrow. “So you can fight him for me? For once, I needed to do it. He could have hurt you and I needed to be the one to fucking go to him and show him that he can’t do whatever he wants. You always defended me and this time I needed to defend you.”

“Gerard,” Frank groaned. He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. Blake could have hurt him so much more than he did. He could have damaged Gerard in the physical and mental ways that he’d done a million times before.

“Frank, look at me,” Gerard smiled; he actually smiled. “I’m fine. I’m great right now. I fucking kicked his ass. I can’t explain to you…God, it felt so good. It was like, like all those times he beat me and I couldn’t do anything because he had a hold on me, you know? He controlled me with my emotions so I never did anything, but he didn’t have shit on me last night. The only thing he did was make me fucking angry. It felt so…liberating. I feel really free of him, like officially. He can’t do anything to me, I showed him that. I stood up for myself, no one else did, and I did it fucking well.”

Frank just stared at Gerard. He did look ok, and he looked happy, but Frank couldn’t just forget how broken he’d seemed the night before. He’d come back from seeing Blake, looking completely weakened and desperate for comfort.

“You just didn’t look this good last night,” Frank shrugged. “You sound fine now, but..”

“Well, duh,” Gerard smiled. Frank’s worries were put at ease every time he saw that smile. “It was scary at first. Even if I had kicked his ass, it was fucking scary to think that I’d finally, like, beat this thing he’d had on me for so long. I was scared, I can’t explain it. But overall, I just came here because I really needed…I had beat up my past, and I just needed a strong reminder of where I am now. And then having you…you know having you top instead of me…it just really made me feel like I had moved on from the past. God, I don’t know if I’m making any sense here, Frank.”

“No, you are, you are,” Frank sighed. “You’re making total sense. You can’t blame me for freaking out, though.”

“Nah, I get it,” Gerard nodded.

Frank leaned forward and got his cup of coffee, chugging down the warm drink. Everything still seemed so strange to him. He couldn’t get it to seem normal. Blake was always a threat to Gerard and yet Gerard had conquered him like he was no threat at all. Frank felt like he didn’t have anything to worry about for Gerard’s sake.

“What are you thinking about?” Gerard asked, setting his empty mug on the table. He was all too familiar with the way Frank could just lose himself in his thoughts.

“Just that…” Frank paused, his eyes still dazed. “I’m proud of you…for doing what you did.”

Gerard surged forward so that he was sat on his knees and hugging Frank’s side. He squeezed Frank within the embrace, his arm crushing Frank’s chest.

“Thanks,” Gerard beamed, planting a huge and messy kiss on Frank’s cheek.

“You’re such an idiot,” Frank laughed, using his shoulder to wipe Gerard’s spit off his face.

“Yeah, but I’m a happy idiot,” Gerard laughed. He felt so burden-free now that his mind had cleared from his encounter the previous night. Everything from the past that had weighed him down wasn’t just lightened; it was completely eradicated.

Frank pulled his head back so he could see Gerard’s face. He’d never seen him look so happy; the smile on his face was his typical wide grin, but it was the most genuine that Frank had ever seen it. He could just feel Gerard radiating true happiness and that brought a smile to his face. The fact that Blake had been the reason his store had been shot up suddenly seemed entirely irrelevant; all that mattered was how happy Gerard was.

Gerard’s happiness was all Frank could think about throughout the day. Even after Gerard had to leave to pick Mikey up from work, and even when he sat all alone at night, trying to fall asleep. Even when he gave up on sleeping and stood against the kitchen counter, holding a bottle of beer, Gerard’s happiness was all that was on his mind. Frank hadn’t opened the bottle yet; he was just staring at it, debating whether or not he should drink.

He was happy for Gerard, beyond happy. He wanted nothing more than to continue seeing Gerard smile the way he had been that day. There was a part of him, deep down, that envied Gerard. Gerard had come alive in a way that Frank felt like he could never achieve; he had conquered everything that had haunted him in the past and he came out unscathed, ready for a fresh start. Frank, on the other hand, allowed himself to be controlled by his past every single day; he let it determine every detail of his life, and he’d come to realize how much it truly weighed him down. He wanted to be as strong as Gerard was, and step all over his past. He wanted to move on, just like Gerard had said to him the night before. Frank had even been controlled by that part of his past, the part where he raped Gerard, and the only reason he moved on from it was because Gerard wanted him to. He didn’t have the strength to do things on his own. He wanted to conquer his past but he had no idea how he was supposed to even do it.

Frank took a deep breath and quickly walked the still-sealed bottle over to the trash can and tossed it in. The filled bottle came into contact with the bottom of the can with a loud thud, cushioned from breaking by the garbage bag. Frank walked away before he changed his mind and went into his room, taking his phone, and dialing Gerard’s number without even looking at the time, which he figured was too late to be making phone calls.

After a few rings, Gerard picked up. “H-Hello? Frank?” He sounded like he’d just woken up and Frank immediately regretted making the call.

“Fuck, you’re asleep, aren’t you?” Frank sighed. “Sorry.”

“No, no, well yeah, I was asleep,” Gerard mumbled, “but it’s fine. Are you ok? Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine I think,” Frank sighed. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have called you this late for this. It’s stupid.”

“It’s ok, Frank,” Gerard assured him, sounding more awake. “What is it?”

“I was just thinking about today, about what you told me about Blake,” Frank mumbled, sitting on the edge of his bed. “You seemed…really happy.”

“I am,” Gerard agreed. “It feels great.”

“I wanna be like that, too,” Frank said. “I don’t want us to be, like…like I’m that idiot stuck in the past and you’re forced to carry me around and make sure I don’t fucking break down or something.”

“It’s not gonna be like that,” Gerard said and Frank could hear the smile in his voice. “But I want you to be happy, too. I want you to let go of that past. That would be so good for you. I just know it would take a shitload off your back.”

“Yeah, it would,” Frank sighed.

“You ok, Frank?”

And that was when Frank turned into an over emotional idiot because he suddenly felt like crying. There was a lump in his throat and it was telling him that he was not ok. He never had been and he’d never fully accepted it or wanted to do anything about it until that moment.

“I…” Frank tried to speak, but his voice was trapped in his throat, and if it came out then so would the tears.

Frank could hear rustling as Gerard probably adjusted himself on the other end.

“Frank,” he spoke. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Oh god,” Frank groaned. “Gerard, we had a deal.”

“I know, I know, I’m not supposed to drop shit just to help you, but I’m not dropping anything right now,” Gerard said.

“You’re not driving to my house in the middle of the night because I’m an idiot,” Frank stated firmly.

“Ok, ok, fine,” Gerard sighed. “But you’re not an idiot. Just talk to me then.”

“I don’t know, Gerard,” Frank mumbled, laying himself down comfortably on the bed. “I don’t know. I just…I think I’m officially tired of feeling like this. It was fine when I was alone, when I wanted to be alone, but now I don’t. Now I have you and I don’t wanna feel this way anymore. It’s like what you said last night…you kept saying you were tired of being held back by the past. I am, too. But I don’t know how to move on from it like you did.”

“Would you wanna confront Kevin?”

Frank thought about that for a moment, about really standing up to Kevin and showing him that he was not the same, weak boy that he was back in juvie. It would definitely be satisfying.

“I feel like we’d have to hunt him down since he’s on tour,” Frank shrugged. “That’d be fucking great, but it would be too much effort, you know? I don’t want him to think he’s worth that much, you know?”

“Mmm, yeah that makes sense. What else is in your past then? That’s holding you back?”

“I never did confront my parents,” Frank shrugged. “They fucked me over just as bad as Kevin did and I never made that clear to them. They’re, like, the main reason I don’t fucking trust people. I mean, Kevin was bad, but if my parents had trusted me I don’t think I would’ve been how I am today.”

“How long’s it been since you’ve seen your parents?”

“Since I left,” Frank answered immediately.

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah…”

“How do you feel about going to visit them?” Gerard asked. Before Frank could respond, he quickly added, “Don’t answer yet. Just think about it. Think about what you’d wanna say to them, if it’ll be worth it, if it’ll help, and then let me know. If you want…we could even go together.”

“You’d go with me?”

“Duh,” Gerard laughed. “However you decide to do shit, I’m gonna be with you through it.”

“Thank you,” Frank said. “I guess I’ll think things over. You should go back to sleep.”

“You sure you good?” Gerard asked, and he was already yawning.

“I’ll be alright tonight,” Frank assured him. “Thanks, Gerard, for everything. Good night.”

“Mm, you don’t need to thank me,” Gerard replied sleepily. “Good night.”


	57. Chapter 56: Promised Always

Frank sat in the passenger seat of Gerard’s car, his feet propped up against the dashboard, knees pressed against his chest, and the window rolled all the way down, allowing the air to bombard his face and hair.

He was watching the other cars fly by when he felt Gerard nudge his arm. He turned to find Gerard’s eyes still locked on the road, but his face edged towards Frank a little with his mouth open. Frank smiled and reached into the bag that was stuffed between his chest and knees, taking a few salty fries in his hand, and shoving them into Gerard’s open mouth. Gerard chewed with a smile on his face.

“You forgot the ranch,” Gerard said after he swallowed.

“Oh, my bad,” Frank rolled his eyes. He grabbed another handful of fries, dunked them in the ranch that was placed on the middle console, and then shoved those into Gerard’s mouth.

“So much better with ranch,” Gerard mumbled with his mouth full.

“You’re such a fucking mess,” Frank laughed, finding a napkin and wiping at the stray ranch on Gerard’s lips.

Gerard just smiled and continued chewing happily, this time with his mouth closed. “You haven’t eaten,” Gerard noted after he’d swallowed.

“Not hungry,” Frank shrugged.

“In Frank language, that means you’re thinking too much,” Gerard nodded.

“Or it just means I’m not hungry,” Frank mumbled and then added a soft, “But yeah…” that Gerard easily heard.

“Thinking about your parents or mine?”

“Both,” Frank sighed, his head resting in one of his hands. He scratched and tugged at his hair until it was left an irreparable mess. “Fuck. Why are we doing this again?”

“Cause it’ll help you,” Gerard stated simply. “It’s closure. Just relax.”

“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to say to them,” Frank groaned. “I haven’t fucking seen them since I was a teenager, Gerard. And the way I left—fuck this was a horrible idea.”

Gerard reached over and gripped Frank’s knee, using his thumb to rub over the denim, hoping to provide some sort of comfort.

“You say this every night and then you end up deciding that you should go,” Gerard laughed, giving Frank’s knee one more squeeze before returning his hand to the steering wheel.

“Ok,” Frank shrugged, “you’re right. But holy fuck, I’m meeting your parents. What the fuck do I say to _them_?? They’re not gonna like me.”

“Frank,” Gerard laughed. “Calm the fuck down, alright? You’re fine. My parents are gonna love you. My dad always said if I can find someone to put up with me, then I’m good to go.”

“Gerard,” Frank groaned. “I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Gerard turned the car stereo up, flooding the car with some music so that there was some noise other than the wind blowing and Frank’s concerns. He gave Frank a smile and Frank let his head rest back, trying to will himself to relax.

Gerard had a Duran Duran record playing. Frank shut his eyes for the rest of the ride, not even focusing in on the lyrics, just tapping his fingers along to the beat of each song. Before he knew it, the car had come to a stop, the sound of the stereo dying down along with the car’s engine. Frank opened his eyes and peered out the window.

They had parked outside a small off-white house. It had an extremely miniscule front yard, which was covered in some do-it-yourself gardening, colorful flowers littering various parts, in no particular pattern or order. It seemed pretty unorganized, and experienced gardeners would probably disapprove.

“I keep telling my mom and dad that gardening is so not their thing,” Gerard shook his head. “Oh, there’s Alicia’s car, so Mikey’s here already.”

Gerard pointed to a car parked across the street and Frank nodded at it, then turned his attention back to the house. He would be meeting Gerard’s parents. He wouldn’t be introduced as anything other than Gerard’s friend, so if he couldn’t gain their approval as just that, he would never gain their approval as anything more.

Frank took a deep breath and looked at Gerard, who had his eyes on Frank already.

“It’s just one day,” Gerard said. “We’ll head out tomorrow. And this’ll help I think.”

“Yeah, prepare me for my own parents and all that good shit,” Frank sighed. “I know…I just…I want them to like me, you know?”

“They will,” Gerard smiled. “You ready?”

Frank nodded and made his way out of the car, slinging his backpack that had his overnight essentials over this shoulder. Gerard took the lead towards the front door, Frank following closely behind him.

“I smell barbeque,” Gerard noted, sorting through his keys until he found the right one. “They’re probably all out back.”

Frank just nodded, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other clutching onto his backpack, while Gerard unlocked the door. The house was empty, and as Gerard had guessed, everyone was gathered out back, their voices carrying through the house from outside.

“I don’t know where my mom is gonna have us sleep,” Gerard said, shutting the door after having to pull Frank into the house. “There’s only one guest room and Mikey might have gotten it already. So we’ll go say hi to everyone first.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded.

Gerard looked over his shoulder and then turned his attention back to Frank, who was standing in front of the shut door with a blank expression on his face. Gerard placed one hand on Frank’s shoulder and the other on his neck, hoping to sooth him in anyway.

“Relax,” Gerard said and Frank immediately released a long breath. Gerard slipped his hand into Frank’s hair, gently scratching at his scalp the way he knew Frank always enjoyed.

Frank shut his eyes for a short moment, taking a few deep breaths. He opened his eyes and nodded to Gerard, as confidently as he could.

“Good to go?” Gerard smiled.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded again.

They left their things at the door and finally made their way through the small house, having to only cross the living room and a hallway in order to reach the back door. The louder the voices got, the more nauseating Frank’s nerves became. Gerard gave Frank one last comforting smile, a squeeze on his shoulder, and then he opened the back door. Frank purposely situated himself right behind Gerard in order to shield himself for just a bit longer.

“Gerard, baby!” a woman’s voice immediately shrieked, drowning out the rest of the voices.

Frank saw a pair of arms wrap themselves around Gerard’s body. Those arms were clad with loud, golden bangles and freshly manicured nails. A puff of blond hair just barely peeked at Frank over Gerard’s shoulder.

“You two don’t visit me enough,” the voice of the woman said. One of her hands dug through the fabric of Gerard’s sweater to give him a firm pinch in the side.

Gerard squeaked and jumped back, bumping into Frank’s stiff body.

“Ow, Mom!” Gerard whined childishly. “Hey, hey, you need to meet Frank!”

“Fucker,” Frank hissed under his breath at Gerard using him as a scapegoat.

Gerard shot him a quick smirk and pulled him out of the house so that he could have a full view of everyone in the backyard and so that he couldn’t hide behind Gerard again.

Frank’s brief view of the backyard was obscured by Gerard’s mother jumping right into his line of sight. She had a wide smile on her face, dramatized with the bright red lipstick she had on. Her eyes shrunk with the wideness of her smile in the same way that Gerard’s always did. She was small, just about an inch or two shorter than Frank, but Frank could already tell that her confidence surpassed her height.

“Nice to meet you, Frank,” she greeted him. “Call me Donna.”

Frank smiled to cover up his nervousness and extended his hand towards her. “It’s nice to meet you, too,” Frank replied.

“Handshakes?” she laughed, shaking her head. “Gerard didn’t tell you I’m a hugger.”

And then she was suffocating Frank with a tight hug that he had no choice but to return. While she squeezed him with all her might, Frank saw everyone else in the backyard. Mikey and Alicia were sat on a wooden bench, Alicia’s head resting against Mikey’s shoulder. They were accompanied by an older man at the barbeque, who was ignoring the food on the grill to watch the guest that had arrived.

Frank could smell the strong scent of nicotine in Donna’s hair, which was tickling his face. The loose embrace that he returned was pitiful compared to the tight grip she had on his body.

When she pulled back, she held Frank by the shoulders to get a good look at him. “Your hug could use some work, Frankie,” she smiled, patting his upper arm and then releasing him.

She moved away from him to return to harassing Gerard about his lack of visits.

“Hey, Frank,” Mikey waved him over. Frank took a quick glance at Gerard who was trying to escape Donna’s pinches, and then edged closer to Mikey and Alicia.

“Get used to those hugs,” Alicia said, sitting up so she could see Frank properly. “She will literally find any reason to hug you.”

“And she won’t stop till you hug back the way she wants,” Mikey nodded.

“I guess I gotta work on it,” Frank shrugged, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

Something suddenly flew in Mikey’s face. “What the hell?” he mumbled, looking down in his lap. He picked up a piece of a carrot and peered around Frank. “What, Dad?”

“Introduce your father, idiot,” a man’s voice said and Frank wanted to smack his forehead. He quickly turned around and faced Gerard’s dad. He was a taller man than Frank—most men were—surpassing him by a few inches. His head was almost completely stripped of hair, just a few white hairs holding their ground. He had on glasses, which he adjusted to get a better look at Frank.

“S-Sorry,” Frank stuttered out. “Uh, nice to meet you, sir.”

“See, now he has to greet me with ‘sir,’ you idiot,” he said, looking at Mikey with narrowed eyes. He turned his attention back to Frank. “Call me Don.” He reached over the sizzling grill to shake Frank’s hand. Handshakes were something Frank could do a lot better than hugs. “This is my first time making something vegetarian, so if it sucks, you can lie to me.”

“Ok,” Frank laughed, already feeling a comforting aura from both of Gerard’s parents. “I’ll try not to gag too much.”

“I like this kid,” Don waved his spatula at Mikey. “Take notes.”

“I don’t make fun of your cooking,” Mikey defended.

“Well of course you don’t, because my cooking is good,” Don shrugged. “But he laughs at my jokes. Take notes on that.”

“He’s only doing that ‘cause he needs to impress you!” Mikey laughed. “I don’t need to impress you, I’m your son.”

“Why would he need to impress me?” Don shot back quickly. “It’s not like he’s dating Gerard or something.”

That was the first wave of awkwardness that Frank felt. He had to consciously fight the cringe from showing up on his face. Fortunately for him, Mikey and Alicia both caught onto the statement made by Don and sought to change the subject.

Frank had to disconnect a bit from the moment just to surpass the discomfort such a simple statement had caused him to feel. He was brought back to his senses when he felt someone judge his side. He looked up and found that Gerard had finally joined him. With Gerard standing beside him, he felt at ease.

“Doin’ ok?” Gerard asked quietly, making sure that only the two of them could hear.

Frank nodded and then tried to return his focus to the people around him. Donna had joined Don at the grill, adding more meat while he transferred what was already cooked onto a plate. Mikey and Alicia had drifted off into their own conversation where they were sat.

“Go sit,” Gerard nodded to the bench. “I’m gonna help Dad out so he doesn’t ruin lunch.”

“Ok,” Frank nodded.

Frank took a seat next to Alicia and as soon as he did, Donna rushed over to him with a cold can of soda.

“Anything you need, feel free to ask,” Donna said to Frank, and then returned to the grill with Gerard and Don.

“I wish I was a guest so they could serve me,” Mikey sighed.

“Oh, please,” Alicia laughed. “You don’t do crap when you’re here.”

“I do!” Mikey gasped dramatically.

“Sure,” Alicia rolled her eyes. “So, anyways, Frank, I heard what happened at the store. So damn crazy. Are you gonna shut it down for awhile?”

“Nah, just until we get all the damage dealt with,” Frank shrugged. “I should be back in, like, a week.”

“I’d be so scared to go back,” Alicia said. “You have balls.”

“Or he’s just a crazy ass workaholic!” Gerard called from behind the grill, having been keeping an ear on the conversation. “He wanted to go back the next day!”

“Yeah, balls equals stupidity,” Mikey nodded.

“Let’s save all the talk of balls till after lunch, yeah?” Donna suggested, appearing suddenly just to smack Mikey and Alicia on their heads.

Frank was surprised to see how comfortable even Alicia was with Donna and Don. He didn’t know how long she’d been dating Mikey, but he hadn’t imagined that boyfriends or girlfriends were often that comfortable with their partner’s parents. He could understand it, though, how easy it was to feel at ease around the Ways.

Time flew by with light conversation; Frank, Mikey, and Alicia drifted off into discussions about local bands, while Don, Donna, and Gerard manned the grill. Frank could faintly hear Gerard ordering his parents around in the background and it kept a smile on his face throughout his conversation.

They set lunch up on the grass of the backyard, a picnic blanket already set out for them. Alicia sat on one side with Mikey, Don with Donna, and Frank of course with Gerard. Frank had his own plate with his specially made vegetarian options.

“So, Frank,” Donna spoke while shaking the ketchup bottle to get some onto her hamburger, “tell us more about the store you have? I just heard you mention it a little earlier.”

Frank tried his best not to freak out with having the limelight so brightly lit over him. He distracted himself with preparing his veggie burger while he spoke so that he didn’t have to make eye contact.

“It’s a record store,” Frank said. “I’ve been working there for…I think eight years now, something like that.”

“That’s a long time!” Donna exclaimed. “How old are you now?”

“Twenty six,” Frank answered.

“Wow since you were eighteen then?” Donna calculated.

“Wish we could have gotten these shits here to work that young,” Don grumbled, glancing at Mikey and Gerard. “Somebody,” he paused to nod his head slightly towards Donna, “babied them too much.”

“Oh, shut up,” Donna laughed, nudging him with her shoulder. “You babied them all the same as me.” He was about to respond with some smart ass comment, but Donna beat him to speaking. “So, anyways, Frank, do you run the store since you’ve been there so long?”

“Basically,” Frank shrugged. “I started just working there part time and then the guy that hired me left, and I became manager. My boss owns some other branches, mostly in Jersey, a couple in New York, but he basically just has me run everything.”

“Wow, so stable and settled,” Donna mused, nodding at Frank with an impressed expression. “You should be proud.”

Frank ducked his head a bit at the compliment, smiling down at the veggie burger he’d finally finished putting together.

“He’s even wanting to open his own store,” Gerard bragged with a grin on his face. Frank felt like Gerard was his parent, wanting to flash around all of Frank’s accomplishments to make other parents jealous.

Frank was then forced to go through his plans about opening his own local music store, and how Gerard had helped him come up with the idea. Fortunately, he didn’t have to be the only one talking, as Mikey and Alicia joined the conversation, contributing ideas to what could potentially be Frank’s store.

Once again, time passed smoothly and flawlessly. Conversations were effortless and before Frank knew it, he was sat back a few feet away from the picnic blanket so that he could lay his legs out in front of him, groaning at how full he was.

“I take that as five stars for my veggie burgers then?” Don responded to Frank’s groan.

“Ten stars,” Frank nodded, giving him a thumbs up.

Don gave Gerard and Donna a boastful smile and they just shook their heads at him.

Mikey and Alicia were given cleaning duty since they hadn’t cooked lunch, Frank only let off since he was a first-time guest.

“Next time, though, you’ll be joining them,” Donna warned him when she saw the smirk on his face. That smirk turned to a smile when he heard her say ‘next time.’ He’d dreaded this visit and been so nervous about it, but now he was already looking forward to when that ‘next time’ would happen.

**

Night had fallen and Gerard and Frank were sat on the sofa, listening to Don tell a story about he’d almost burnt a McDonald’s down when he was a teenager.

“I don’t know how it happened,” he said. “I turned around and there was fire! It came out of nowhere, I swear to you.”

“Happens all the time, man,” Frank laughed. “Fires always just show up uninvited.”

“He gets it!” Don gestured wildly at Frank. “Gerard, bring Frank more. I swear, you all blame me for the fire, but he gets it.”

“Sure, Dad,” Gerard laughed. He turned to Frank, “He tells this story so much and I swear it keeps changing.”

“I heard that,” Don said, but before he could reprimand Gerard any longer, Mikey stood up off the floor with a disc in his hand. He had been sat in front of the TV with Alicia, having their own conversation.

“Time for video games!” he announced, pulling out controllers from the cabinet.

“Mikey made my parents keep a video game in their house just so he can have something to do when he came over,” Gerard told Frank.

“And so he could have his ass kicked by me here, too,” Alicia added, grabbing a remote from Mikey.

The rest of the household, Frank included, sat back and watched as Mikey and Alicia immersed themselves into whatever video game they were playing. All anyone knew was that it was a shooting game set on a battleground that was overrun by gun-wielding monsters.

Things were calm, even with the sound of explosions constantly going off. “Seriously! Stop using grenades, cheater!” Alicia would yell in between every grenade that Mikey threw.

“You’re just mad you’re losing!” he countered, launching a few more grenades.

“Use a gun!” she said, smacking the remote in his hands.

“Fine, fine,” he groaned, pulling it out of her reach, and switching to a gun.

Just like that, suddenly things changed. The explosions of the grenades hadn’t seemed too realistic, considering that no one in that room had ever had a firsthand experience with grenades, but the gunshots were a different story. Frank could feel himself being pulled into a chain of memories that involved the all too familiar sound of gunshots being fired.

He tried to keep his breathing regular even though he felt completely out of breath. His entire body felt hot with anxiousness and he knew that he needed to be away from everyone, away from the gunshots.

Before he ran off to the bathroom, he managed a softly spoken, “Bathroom break,” to everyone in the living room.

All heads turned to look at him, but he was long gone before he could even notice. Then everyone turned their questioning glances to Gerard.

“Is he alright?” Donna asked.

Gerard stared ahead for a minute until things suddenly clicked in his mind. He had thought nothing of the gunshots being fired and hadn’t considered for a second how they might Frank feel.

“I-I’ll go check on him,” Gerard said simply and he was off of the couch without further explanation.

The door of the bathroom was shut but not locked, so Gerard went right in. He found Frank crouched on the floor, with his back to the wall, and his head down against his knees. Gerard swallowed the lump that immediately lodged itself in his throat, shut the door and locked it, and sank to the ground in front of Frank. He pulled Frank by his shoulders so that he landed clumsily into Gerard’s arms, falling out of his crouched position and onto his knees.

Frank didn’t hesitate for one moment to secure his arms around Gerard’s waist and hold him as close as he could manage. Gerard threaded one hand into Frank’s hair and used the other to run up and down his back. Frank’s face was buried into Gerard’s neck and he was breathing heavily, his entire body heaving with each inhale. Gerard could feel Frank’s heartbeat thudding rapidly against his own chest.

“It’s ok, Frank,” Gerard spoke softly. “You’re fine, you’re ok. I got you.”

Frank couldn’t form any words, feeling like his voice had completely escaped him, so he replied by tightening the grip he had on the back of Gerard’s shirt.

“You’re ok,” Gerard repeated. “Just breathe. I’m here.”

Frank tried to steady his breaths, drawing them out so they weren’t so shallow. It felt like each breath he took wasn’t even reaching his lungs, but he tried anyways.

“Everything’s ok,” Gerard continued speaking softly to him. “We’re at my parents’ house, and nothing bad happened here. Nothing bad is gonna happen. We’re all ok.”

Gerard wasn’t sure if his ramblings would help; he just hoped that they would keep Frank in the moment and not in the past.

Frank forced his mind to reel away from the memories and flashbacks and focus instead on the words being spoken right into his ear and the hands softly caressing him. He made his thoughts consist of nothing other than Gerard and the moment that they were in.

His body began to unwind and he felt a bit more at ease. He relaxed the grip he had on Gerard and pulled back a bit, his forehead still resting on the crook of Gerard’s neck.

“You ok?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “I think so. Sorry.”

“Shut up, Frank,” Gerard laughed softly. “You’re not about to apologize for this.”

Frank smiled a bit, his face still hidden from Gerard’s view. He felt too relaxed to move. Gerard’s hands were still caressing him, one in his hair and one on his back, and nothing could feel better than that.

“You’re always there when I need you,” Frank stated. He felt more grateful than ever for Gerard. The way his panic had taken him over completely—mentally and physically—had made him feel like it would last forever. Gerard was able to chase that feeling away in a matter of minutes.

“I always will be,” Gerard promised.


	58. Chapter 57: Unexpectedly Amazing

Gerard had walked Frank out to the backyard. Some fresh air was bound to be better for him than having to awkwardly face the rest of Gerard’s family.

Frank lay on the grass, staring up at the night sky. Gerard was half laying down, legs out and holding himself up with his elbows. The chilly air was doing a good job of relieving the tension they’d both felt earlier. For a long while, they sat in complete silence, allowing their earlier emotions to wordlessly flood out into the night’s air. It wasn’t long before they felt relaxed again.

“Do your mom and dad know about the shooting?” Frank asked.

Gerard shook his head; Frank caught sight of that in his peripheral vision. “They’d probably freak out more than me,” Gerard laughed. “I can tell them whatever you want.”

“I was gonna say tell them I just felt sick,” Frank said, smiling, “but your dad is gonna think I lied about his food.”

“Not even,” Gerard chuckled. “He’ll blame your stomach before he blames his cooking.”

“I like them,” Frank mused, turning his face to look at Gerard. “I…they’re really cool.”

“They like you, too,” Gerard nodded, reaching over to move hair out of Frank’s face. There were some stubborn strands that kept falling over his forehead, shielding part of his eyes from view. Gerard smoothed them back, allowing his fingers to rest interlocked with the rest of the strands. “I can tell. I mean they are pretty nice to everyone, but...I can just tell.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Frank smiled, shutting his eyes. “I’m really fucking glad they do. One day, I—”

“Boys?” a voice interrupted what Frank was about to say.

Gerard pulled his hand out of Frank’s hair and turned to see Donna standing at the backdoor, a gentle smile on her face.

“Everything ok?” she asked. “Frank?”

Frank quickly sat up and turned to face her as well. “Yeah, Mrs—I mean, Donna,” he nodded. “Sorry about that. I just felt sick all of a sudden. Weak stomach.”

“You probably don’t feed yourself well enough,” Donna shook her head, leaning against the doorframe. She took on the typical role of a mother for Frank, one that would fret over the fact that he wasn’t eating healthy and believe that every bad thing that happened was a result of that.

“The best meals I get are when Gerard cooks something,” Frank admitted with a smile on his face. “Other than that, not really.”

“Then you,” she said, pointing at Gerard, “should cook for him every day.”

“I’m all for that,” Frank nodded at Donna and then Gerard. Gerard just smiled and shook his head at the two of them.

“Well, we’re all gonna head to bed,” Donna said, straightening up and getting ready to go back inside. “All your stuff is out on the sofas already.”

“I still can’t believe Mikey got the guest room and I’m the one with a guest,” Gerard complained.

“First come, first serve,” Donna said. “Besides, Frank gets to sleep on the sofa; if that doesn’t make him feel right at home, I don’t know what will.”

“Thank you,” Frank smiled shyly. “I don’t mind either way.”

“See,” Donna shook her head at Gerard. “So quit your whining.”

“He said he doesn’t mind, that doesn’t mean I—”

“I’m going to bed!” Donna cut Gerard off, turning her back on the two of them. “Good night!”

“Quit your whining,” Frank repeated, laughing. He stood up off the floor and put his hand out to Gerard. Gerard flipped him off and then took his hand, pulling himself up. Frank held Gerard’s hand for just a moment longer. He used his free hand to pull Gerard closer to himself by the back of his head. Gerard expected their lips to come together, but they didn’t. Frank simply rested his forehead against Gerard’s and uttered a soft, “Thank you,” before ruffling Gerard’s hair and walking off.

Gerard stood there for a moment after gathering his thoughts, because Frank could not tempt him like that and just walk off and expect Gerard to be entirely composed.

“Fucker,” he muttered, finally following Frank into the house.

**

Frank was having a hard time falling asleep due to the nerves churning at his stomach. The moment when he would have to face his parents was drawing closer and closer and he still had no idea how he would handle it. Gerard lay on the sofa adjacent to Frank and from what Frank could see in the dark, he was fast asleep. Frank was too occupied with the scenarios passing through his mind, the imaginary conversations between himself and his parents, the script he’d written for himself being altered by the various ways his parents would reply.

When he’d called his mom days ago to tell her he’d visit, she sounded pleasantly surprised. She didn’t question Frank about losing touch with her and she didn’t mention the past; she simply said that she couldn’t wait to see how much he had grown. Frank had grown a lot, he had changed, and so had his parents. He had absolutely no idea what to expect.

A light suddenly illuminated part of the living room and Frank sat up to see where it had come from. Someone was rummaging through the kitchen and Frank got up to see who it was, but the person came out before he had left the sofa.

“Oops, did I wake you?” Donna asked, standing at the kitchen’s entrance with a cup of water.

“No,” Frank answered, keeping his voice down so that he didn’t wake Gerard. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Join me in here,” Donna nodded towards the kitchen. “I’ll get you some milk or something.”

Frank nodded, taking a quick glance at Gerard’s sleeping body, and then walking to the kitchen. He should have probably felt nervous about spending some alone time with Donna, yet even that seemed a lot more comforting than the thought of meeting his parents.

Frank took a seat at the small dining table, while Donna retrieved a cup of milk for each of them.

She sat across from Frank and he was only two sips into his milk when she spoke. “So, Frank, I’m a pretty blunt person.”

Frank paused and left his milk on the table, leaning forward slightly so that both of his hands rested next to the cup. He nodded for her to continue.

“You don’t mind that, do you?” she asked, a small smile keeping her words entirely friendly.

“No, not at all,” Frank shook his head, taking another sip of his milk.

“Ok,” she nodded. “So are you and Gerard a thing, or what?”

Frank did not see that coming, so it was only natural for him to start choking on his milk like an idiot. He slammed the cup onto the table while he tried to get through his coughing fit. Donna quickly stood up from her chair and went over to pat his back a few times, hoping that would help.

“You said you don’t mind me being blunt, boy,” Donna shook her head, laughing. “You’re not supposed to choke on milk if you don’t mind.”

Frank’s coughs finally decreased and he took a moment to catch his breath, holding his hand to his chest and clearing his throat. Donna reclaimed her seat across from him and he avoided eye contact as much as possible. She had her elbows resting on the table and her chin propped atop her folded hands. When Frank finally gained the courage to look up at her, he saw that she had a know-all smirk on her face, as if she’d figured him out completely.

“Uh…” was all he managed to say, his voice slightly cracked from all the coughing.

“Well, now that you’re done choking,” she said, her smirk widening into a grin, “can you answer my question?”

“I, uh…” he cleared his throat again, out of nerves more than anything. He had one hand under the table, picking at the seams of his sweats and the other hand clutched onto his glass of milk. “We’re not…not really.”

“There’s something more, isn’t there?” she asked.

“Kind of,” he sighed. He couldn’t maintain eye contact with her, in the same way that he couldn’t do that with Gerard when he first met him. Her gaze, just like her attitude, was persistent. She was an older and female version of Gerard; it was scary.

“Go on,” she said, gesturing with one of her hands.

“Um, well,” he paused, scratching at the back of his neck. He had no idea how he was supposed to elaborate on things without fully _elaborating_ on them.

“Frank,” she laughed. “Don’t be scared or anything. I’m not playing the whole ‘I’ll kill you for whatever you have with my son’ mother card right now. I’m just curious is all.”

“Right,” he laughed nervously. “Well, it’s just…we’re not a thing, but we wanna be.”

“So you’re not just friends.”

“I guess not,” he shrugged, finally looking up to make eye contact with her. He found that her eyes were soft and understanding, not judgmental in the least—just like Gerard. “There are…feelings there, we just have a lot to figure out before, like, deciding what to do with them, you know?”

Speaking to Donna about his relationship with Gerard became a lot easier as he found that she really was just curious to know what was going on between them.

“How long have you two known each other?” she asked.

“Oh, man,” he sighed, taking a moment to think. He couldn’t put a date on it. All the days and events that had taken place since he met Gerard passed by in a clumped blur. “A few months,” he said, “not too long, but…we’ve been through a lot together. He’s helped me…we’ve helped each other a lot.”

“Oh, I could tell,” she nodded. “You might fool my husband because he’s an idiot, but a mother can see these things.”

“H-How?” Frank asked.

“There’s an obvious difference between the way my sons act with their friends,” she said, “and someone they’re with, or even like.”

“So you saw it with Gerard?”

“Easily,” she nodded, a proud smile on her face. “I’m sure you already know this about Gerard, but he’s a bit of an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Frank laughed, “a big one, actually.”

“He gives his all to people,” Donna nodded, after she finished laughing with Frank. “It’s hard to tell sometimes if he likes someone as a friend or as more, because he’s just a selfless idiot with them both.” Frank nodded attentively as she spoke, agreeing with everything she said. “But you know what’s funny, between me and you, when Gerard introduced me to his first actual boyfriend, I swear I didn’t believe it.”

“Blake?” Frank inquired, hating the act of even speaking his name. From what Frank knew, though, Gerard’s parents didn’t know about Gerard’s situation with Blake other than the fact that they’d broken up, so Frank made sure to hide the rage he felt at the thought of Blake’s existence.

Donna nodded. “We’d spent the day with them and I swear to you, they just seemed like friends. Gerard treated him the same way he treated all his friends, with that stupid little kindness of his. There was no difference to really make it obvious that Blake was his boyfriend and not just another friend. You, though…there was a difference.”

“Th-There was?” Frank swallowed; his face was heating up embarrassedly.

“I can’t really pinpoint it,” she shrugged, sitting back in her seat slightly. “What do they call it? Mother’s intuition or something. I think that’s it. But I could just tell, you were a lot more than just another friend to him. And I’m not your mother, but I can tell with you, too.” Frank couldn’t hold the eye contact anymore, getting even shyer and directing his gaze to the still-full cup of milk in front of him. “You seem a lot more comfortable whenever he’s with you.”

Frank felt a strange churning in his stomach, a pleasant one, unlike the nervous churning he’d felt when thinking about his parents. It was a happy feeling that brought a smile to Frank’s face. He felt a sense of pride at the fact that Donna noticed that because it was true; Gerard’s presence did comfort him in any situation.

“You are a cutie,” Donna laughed suddenly and Frank knew he had to be red by then, so he kept his face down even longer. She took hold of his hand and he was forced to look up. “I hope you two figure things out. But until you do, can I give you some advice? You can use it or toss it, up to you.”

Frank nodded, once again pulled into the strong gaze she had on him.

“Don’t waste too much time,” she said. “You’re always gonna have things to figure out, and I swear to you, it doesn’t matter if you’ve been a couple for fifty years, you won’t have figured everything out. So sometimes it’s better to figure things out together, it’s easier that way.”

Frank just stared off into space for a moment, allowing Donna’s words to sink in. She squeezed his hand and was about to let go, when he returned the grip, holding her there. She looked down at their hands and then up at Frank expectantly.

“I don’t wanna mess things up,” Frank said openly and comfortably, seeking the advice this time. He wanted to hear her input, to gain some insight. He wouldn’t trust anyone else’s advice about Gerard, because no one other than her would care for Gerard the way he did. “I don’t think I’m ready and I feel like I’m gonna mess it up, so I wanna wait until I feel like I can handle it.”

Donna beamed at him, that huge grin that made her eyes shrink with the vastness of it. She brought her other hand up and held Frank’s hand in both of hers.

“I’m gonna give you some important advice here, and you need to hold onto it with all you’ve got, ok?”

Frank nodded, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“You are always gonna mess things up,” she said earnestly. “All the time. It’s either gonna be you, or him. You guys are gonna mess shit up so bad it’s gonna seem like it can’t be fixed. And, hell, I bet you’ve already felt that way before, right?”

Frank nodded.

“And you fixed it enough to be…well…whatever it is that you two are right now?”

Frank nodded again.

“Then I’m willing to bet all my money that you would be able to fix it if you were more than friends. If anything, it should make it even easier to figure things out.”

She gave Frank’s hand one last comforting squeeze, before standing out of her chair and taking her glass of milk to the sink. She easily chugged down what was left of her milk, while Frank stared at his hand, thinking over her words. They made complete sense. He and Gerard had already been figuring things out together for so long and all they did by waiting was limit themselves.

“By the way, Frank,” Donna spoke, pulling Frank out of his thoughts. He looked up and found that she was at the kitchen’s entrance, ready to leave. “I wasn’t pulling the protective mother card earlier, but just know that no matter what you choose, and no matter how much I like you, there will be hell to pay if you hurt my son.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile at her. “I know.”

“I’m serious,” she reiterated, but there was a small smile playing on her lips. “I will hurt you.”

“And I’d help you,” Frank promised. He meant it, and Donna knew that he did.

They said good night to each other, Frank finished his milk and washed his cup, and then went back into the living room, stumbling in the dark since he’d shut off the kitchen light.

“Frank? That you?” Gerard’s sleepy voice called out.

“Yeah,” Frank answered softly, choosing to go over to the sofa that Gerard was laying on. He kneeled down in front of it, waiting for his eyes to adjust so that he could see Gerard’s face.

“Did you sleep?” Gerard asked, voice still cracking.

“Nah,” Frank shook his head, running a hand through Gerard’s hair when he could finally outline most of Gerard’s face in the dark.

“Why? Everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’ve just been thinking,” Frank said, bringing his other hand up to rest on Gerard’s chest. Gerard allowed his hand to rest over Frank’s, his eyes slowly adjusting to the dark as well.

“What about?” Gerard asked.

“You,” Frank answered. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he couldn’t even begin to explain why. It seemed like that was just a natural reaction to being anywhere near Gerard. “About how much you mean to me, how I’d do anything for you…how I don’t ever wanna live without you.”

“Yeah?” Gerard smiled, tightening his grip around Frank’s hand.

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “I just wanted to get that out there. I think I can sleep now.”

“I think I can, too,” Gerard beamed. Frank didn’t even need the light to perfectly envision that grin.

“You’ve been asleep, idiot,” Frank laughed.

“Well, now I can sleep better, whatever,” Gerard said.

Frank leaned down to press a kiss to Gerard’s lips. As soon as their lips touched, there was that electric charge that never got old. No matter how much they denied each other that physical contact, there was no denying how right it felt when it did happen. It was a simple string of pecks, with mouths only slightly parted, yet it still sent a comforting warmth to the pits of their stomachs.

Gerard held his palm to Frank’s cheek, holding him there, making the kiss last just a bit longer. Gerard could feel the words that Frank had just spoken in the way their lips met. No kiss they ever shared felt as strongly as that one did.

When they finally separated, a smile immediately planted itself on Gerard’s face.

“That was unexpected but pretty amazing,” Gerard sighed.

“Kind of like you, huh?” Frank laughed, giving Gerard’s smiling lips one last kiss before retracting back to his own sofa. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“Good night,” Gerard replied. It didn’t take them long to fall asleep, smiles etched onto their faces.


	59. Chapter 58: Impossible Alone

Gerard and his family were in the kitchen having breakfast, while Frank was still fast asleep on the sofa. Donna had cooed at his snuggled up form as if he was still a child, before forcing everyone into the kitchen so that they did not wake him.

When Frank woke up, he felt entirely rejuvenated, as though he had gotten the best sleep of his life. His mind and body were at ease. He sat up to stretch his arms when he heard quiet talking from the kitchen. He went in there and found the whole family already sat down for breakfast.

“Morning, Frank!” Donna greeted him, first of the family to notice him at the entrance. “I’m glad you slept well. Have a seat, everything is vegetarian friendly.”

“Thanks,” he answered croakily, trying to smooth his hair down. “Sorry I slept in so much.”

“Never apologize for sleeping,” Don laughed. “It gives the rest of us first dibs on the food.”

“So considerate, Don,” Alicia laughed.

Frank took the last empty seat, which was right next to Gerard. Any time Gerard and Frank made eye contact, they ended up smiling stupidly at each other, so they avoided it at all costs.  
Breakfast went by as pleasantly as Frank’s entire trip had gone, consisting of good food and light conversations. Donna stated that she had to get ready for a meeting she had, so she left the cleaning to Don, Mikey, and Alicia.

“Why not Gerard?” Mikey objected.

“Because Frank’s Gerard’s guest,” Alicia rolled her eyes. “Stop complaining and just clean. It’s not even that much.”

“So unfair,” Mikey grumbled. He waited until Alicia and Don were busy putting dishes into the sink before he leaned over the table and quietly said, “What the fuck?” to both Frank and Gerard.

“Uh…what?” Gerard asked, glancing briefly at Frank before he looked back up to Mikey.

“You guys are being weird,” Mikey said quietly. “And I hope you didn’t fucking do anything ‘cause you slept in the living room and that would be…weird. And gross, really gross.”

“Oh my God, Mikey,” Gerard groaned. “Nothing—”

“Come on, you are not slacking on me,” Don said, appearing behind Mikey and smacking his shoulder. He looked at Frank and Gerard, oblivious to the incessant blush that had crept onto Frank’s cheeks. “You boys can go ahead and get outta here.”

Gerard and Frank quickly escaped the kitchen, crossed the living room, and crept into the guest room that Mikey and Alicia had slept in since Donna left all of their stuff in there.

“So…” Gerard sighed, shutting the door behind him.

“I’m such an idiot,” Frank laughed, running his hand through his hair. For a moment, Gerard panicked; he thought the smiles he’d exchanged with Frank didn’t actually mean anything and that Frank would regret the things he said to Gerard the night before. That panic was quickly eradicated when Frank turned to face him, smiling, and said, “I gotta learn not to freak the fuck out when Mikey says stuff like that.”

The smile eased itself onto Gerard’s face. “He’s an idiot,” Gerard shrugged.

“We should start getting ready, I guess,” Frank said, going to the closet to retrieve his backpack. The nerves didn’t return to him so long as he did not actually think about where they would be going later.

“Are you just gonna change or shower?” Gerard asked, also grabbing his own backpack.

“Just change,” Frank shrugged.

“I’ll go shower then,” Gerard said. Frank nodded and for a moment, Gerard stood at the door, obviously contemplating something. Frank was just about to ask what when Gerard saved him the trouble by crossing the room and placing a kiss on Frank’s slightly parted lips. When Gerard pulled away, Frank could do nothing but smile, which eliminated the look of apprehension on Gerard’s face.

“You, uh, I really wanna do that more,” Frank stumbled stupidly over his words.

Gerard laughed an almost silent chuckle, backed by a high pitched giggle that made Frank want to hold him in his arms for a few days and do nothing else.

“Me, too,” Gerard nodded, leaning in for another kiss.

Frank was more prepared than the last one, opening his mouth to it, inhaling deeply as though he could just breathe Gerard in at that moment. Gerard had his hands on Frank’s lower back, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt.

“Boys, I—Oh! Oh, sorry!”

Frank and Gerard pulled away from each other fast enough to catch Don in the middle of his exclamation, backing out of the room and shutting the door.

It took a second for the situation to process, for Frank to realize that Don had seen him kissing Gerard—his son—before Frank gasped, “Oh my God.”

“Uh…” Gerard looked at Frank and then back at the door. He wasn’t really bothered by his dad walking in, but he knew that Frank was probably having a mental breakdown.

They were both just gaping at the shut door for a few seconds before it swung open again and Don walked back in, a coy smile on his face.

“Donna always tells me to learn to knock,” he laughed. “But, well, I was actually just gonna ask you boys if you wanted some lunch to-go to take with you so you don’t have to make a pit stop, but well, I’ll just go right ahead and pack you something anyways.”

Frank was getting an idea of where Gerard got his nervous ramblings.

“Right, and I also wanted to say that whatever it—” he waved the hand that had been holding onto the door knob aimlessly at both Gerard and Frank “—it’s fine. Just wanted to say that.”

Frank and Gerard nodded wordlessly.

“So are you a couple or…? No one ever tells me anything around this house,” he grumbled.

“We’re figuring things out,” Frank answered surprisingly. Gerard was pleasantly surprised to hear how calmly he answered the question. “There wasn’t anything to tell you, cause…well…we didn’t tell anyone anything.”

“Ok, good, I won’t go yell at everyone, they’ll thank you for that,” Don nodded, still obviously rambling in a nervous manner.

“So, if we…uh…if we figure things out…you’re cool with this?” Frank asked slowly, carefully evaluating each word before it left his mouth.

“Of course!” Don exclaimed, not even remotely hesitating with his answer. “I told you yesterday I actually liked you, and I like everyone, but still, liking you doesn’t mean you can date my son. But with you, it means you can date my son.”

Gerard simply stood in the middle of the conversation, smiling at his dad and then at Frank. He knew Frank asking the question didn’t make anything official, but that wasn’t even his main concern. Even though Frank and Don were stood at a bit of a distance from each other, they spoke with so much ease. It warmed Gerard’s heart to see Frank getting on so well with his parents. He could only hope Frank’s parents would make the rest of their journey as easy as it had been.

Frank and Gerard left Gerard’s parents’ house not long after their awkward yet manageable incident with Don. Donna commended Frank on his hug and that she was proud to see it improve in just a day, and Don even gave him a hug of his own. Frank left the house with a smile on his face, but sat in the car with a worried expression. Gerard didn’t even bother to speak. With Frank’s reunion with his parents being in less than an hour, he knew that Frank just needed some time with his own mind to mentally prepare himself.

About halfway through their drive, Frank let out a loud sigh and said, “My parents aren’t gonna be like yours.”

“I know,” Gerard nodded.

“They’re not…your parents make people feel like family even if they don’t know them,” Frank said. “My parents…well…they can’t even make me feel like family.”

Gerard took a quick moment to look at Frank. Frank was staring at the dashboard, looking more worried than Gerard had ever seen him. Gerard reached over and took hold of his hand, holding it on the middle console.

“If you want to leave early, we can,” Gerard said, “but you just have to say to them everything you’ve kept bottled up.”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. He squeezed Gerard’s hand and then turned his head to the window, trying to tame his mind.

His thoughts were bouncing everywhere, from his parents, to Gerard’s parents, to just Gerard. So many things had happened and so many things were still going to happen and he felt as though his mind was overflowing. He’d spent so much of his life not thinking about anything other than work that all these events seemed like too much to handle.

There was absolutely nothing to foreshadow to Frank how his encounter with his parents might be. He had no way to prepare himself because the parents he knew had most likely changed over the course of ten years. He was worried how Gerard would react to them considering that his parents were a lot more welcoming, warm, and friendly. And underlying all these doubts and worries was Gerard. After visiting Gerard’s parents—having that talk with Donna, especially—he felt as though he was ready to pursue an actual relationship with Gerard rather than have this giant question mark tailing them constantly. It was just a matter of putting it into words, telling Gerard he was ready, and finding out what would come after that.

Frank didn’t even notice that the car had stopped until he felt Gerard’s hand slip away from his. They were parked outside of a grocery store. Frank immediately felt a strong sense of nostalgia because he realized he was back in Belleville, and he was parked outside of the grocery story that he and his parents used to visit most frequently.

“I thought I should buy your parents some wine or something so I don’t go in empty handed,” Gerard shrugged, catching Frank’s attention and pulling his gaze away from the window.

“I went to your parents’ house empty handed,” Frank noted.

“Yeah, but our parents are different like you said,” Gerard shrugged. “Mine would have cussed me out if I let you bring something, and we don’t know about yours.”

“Right,” Frank nodded, feeling extremely robotic and out of place.

“Come on,” Gerard said, hopping out of the car. Frank followed suit, and as they walked into the store, Frank’s eyes were darting constantly around the familiar yet completely foreign setting around him. The building had obviously been updated, and even expanded. The parking lot looked as dirty as ever. The name of the store had changed, so the colors of the employee uniforms had changed as well. When they were inside, it just looked new. It still sold the same things and was set up quite similarly, but everything just looked updated, a lot like how Frank felt walking in there with Gerard at his side.

Gerard lead the way, but he allowed Frank to choose the pace, easily noticing how engrossed Frank was by the memories of his past.

“Hey,” Gerard nudged Frank’s arm at one point, as they searched for the wine section. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” Frank sighed. “Kind of. It just feels…weird.”

“It is close to your house, isn’t it?”

Frank nodded. “We used to do all our shopping here.”

“At least those are good memories, right?”

“Yeah, they are,” Frank smiled slightly. He never had a negative relationship with his parents, so grocery trips had never been an unpleasant task.

“You know whatever happens, I’ll be by your side,” Gerard said, his voice a bit quieter than usual. Frank looked at him and saw that he was purposely not making eye contact. “I really don’t wanna see you get hurt or anything like that, so…I’m gonna make sure you don’t. I’ll talk to them myself if I have to. I mean, I’m probably not the most intimidating guy or whatever, but I want them to see that, like…”

Gerard paused for a moment, distracting himself with the signs of each aisle, but Frank knew he had more to say.

“What?” Frank urged.

Gerard only glanced briefly at Frank, before looking ahead again. He took a deep breath and bit at his bottom lip for a moment.

“I want them to see that even if they messed up, you’re still ok because…because even though they’re your parents, I can love you more than they ever did.”

Frank’s walk came to an abrupt stop and there was no time to react or for Gerard to gauge his reaction because Gerard walked around him and down the aisle they stopped by, calling, “Found the wine,” over his shoulder.

Frank finally found it in himself to walk down the aisle of wine, and when he did, he had to bite his lip to contain the smile on his face. The last time they’d said the word “love” to each other, it was coated with uncertainty; this time, it was different. Gerard was sure of it and Frank felt his surety.

Gerard was leaning down, his fingers circled around the neck of a wine bottle, running over it while he thought his choices over. Frank couldn’t contain himself. He grabbed Gerard by the shoulder, spun him around, and ungracefully pushed his back against the shelves of wine, the glass bottles rattling with the impact. His mouth was on Gerard’s faster than Gerard could even realize what was happening. Frank’s hands that were clutched onto the front of Gerard’s sweater were tugging and pulling, while Frank’s body was pressing and shoving. Gerard felt the urgency and returned it as best as he could. He had one hand still holding onto the wine bottle, and the other bracing against the shelf. He couldn’t do much other than give in to the glide of Frank’s mouth and tongue against his own.

When Frank bit at Gerard’s bottom lip, Gerard’s hand that was holding the wine bottle tightened, causing the neck to squeeze right out of his hand and go crashing to the floor.

“Fuck,” Gerard gasped when Frank pulled away to see what had happened. The bottle had obviously shattered on the ground, the wine spreading across the floor.

“Oops,” Frank laughed. “We should probably get outta here.”

He took Gerard’s hand and tried pulling him out of the aisle, but Gerard turned back, grabbed another bottle of wine, and then joined Frank in running out of the aisle before a worker arrived to see that it was them who had caused the damage.

Frank was holding Gerard’s hand, running as far as they could get from the area they’d been in, with large grins on their faces. Onlookers eyed them strangely, but otherwise minded their own business.

“You’re fucking crazy,” Gerard laughed once they finally stopped near the cash registers.

“You love it,” Frank grinned. He chuckled embarrassedly at the ease with which he could say something like that. He took the bottle from Gerard’s hands and hurried over to the register to pay. Gerard simply followed behind. Their grins never stopped matching.

Once they had paid and walked back to the car, their smiles had subdued a bit, yet were still present. Frank was able to stay calm until they arrived to his parents’ house just minutes later. As soon as he saw the home he’d grown up in, his heart began a rampage in his chest.

“It’ll be ok,” Gerard said, quick to notice the way Frank’s breathing had sped up. Frank nodded, his eyes forward, and face still unnervingly impartial.

Gerard took his hand and Frank returned the grip; it was almost painful, but Gerard wouldn’t complain. Frank took a few more deep breaths before finally nodding at nothing in particular.

“I’m ready,” he said, releasing Gerard’s hand and hopping out of the car.

The house looked old. Frank was surprised his parents hadn’t chosen to move out yet; it had been obviously long since it lost its new-house-sheen. The shillings on the roof looked outdated compared to the more updated houses around them, as well as the paint that looked like it had suffered too many winter storms.

There wasn’t much of a front lawn, taking only a few steps to reach the front door from the sidewalk, but the grass that was there was mostly dead, except for a few surprising patches of green. If it wasn’t for the front windows visibly dawning colorful curtains on the inside, the house could have been deemed abandoned.

Frank wanted to hurry. He didn’t want to hesitate in doing anything. He knew that the moment he hesitated he’d give himself the chance to back out. Things had to be done quickly and without too much thought. He rang the doorbell as soon as he reached the door. Gerard stood right behind him, silent, having nothing to say unless he felt that Frank needed him to; for the moment, quietness seemed like the best option.

The door finally began opening. A small woman, looking extremely tired with age, slowly revealed herself. Her expression was soft at first, questioning, but the more her eyes were able to take in Frank, her son, standing on her porch, the more her entire face lit up with happiness. She held the door wide open, bracing herself against it as though she would fall over without it. The other hand was held against her mouth and her eyes were immediately glossed over with tears.

The air around them was still and eerily soundless. Frank and his mother were taking each other in, counting the years of each physical change they could see in one another, and reminiscing the physical qualities they could recognize from ten years prior. Frank’s mother couldn’t contain herself any longer. A muffled whimper left her mouth and she launched herself into Frank’s arms.

“Frankie,” she cried into his shoulder. “My baby.”

She had one arm wrapped tightly around his back, fingers pushing against the fabric of his sweater, and the other hand in his hair. Frank’s arms were limp at his side at first, resisting the urge to hold his mother’s small frame close to his own. His resistance only lasted two seconds. He wrapped his arms around her, unsure of whether or not she’d gotten smaller or if he’d gotten bigger, but feeling the difference in the way that his arms practically engulfed her entire body.

“You’ve grown,” she laughed, followed by a short sob, “so, so much.”

“And you haven’t,” he couldn’t help but laugh back, tears clouding his eyes.

They stayed that way for what seemed like an eternity, clutching onto each other, holding back tears that would inevitably escape regardless of their efforts to subdue them.

Frank’s mother finally pushed him back by his shoulders, wiping her tears with one hand in order to get a proper look at her son’s face. She gave him such a soft smile, one filled with love, sadness, and happiness all mixed together and it made Frank’s heart wrench. He missed it, the love and care that radiated from a mother’s smile that couldn’t be replicated by anything else in the world. In the past ten years, he’d fooled himself into thinking that he didn’t care for it, but with one endearing look from his mother, he allowed his heart to yearn desperately for his mother’s love.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice still unstable.

“Me, too,” he admitted without missing a beat.

She smiled widely at that and then suddenly looked over Frank’s shoulder.

“Oh, your guest!” she quickly said, wiping her face with both hands. Frank stepped aside so that she could properly greet Gerard.

“Gerard,” Gerard said, putting a hand forward. She shook his hand with both hands, smiling warmly at him.

“Nice to meet you, Gerard,” Frank’s mom said. “Call me Linda.”

Gerard smiled and nodded. Linda released his hands and wiped her face again. “Let’s go inside and get you two settled,” she said and lead them into the house.

Frank and Gerard followed behind her and Gerard took a moment to squeeze Frank’s shoulder comfortingly. Frank turned his head briefly to give Gerard an appreciative smile. Their quick exchange ended once the front door shut behind them.

Frank’s eyes immediately traveled to the man sitting on the sofa, his attention entirely engrossed by the news that was playing on TV.

“Frank’s here,” Linda announced, causing the man to turn his attention to the two new bodies that had entered his home. Frank’s father looked at him with the same emotionless eyes as the day that Frank had left. He had aged and his features had changed, but those eyes had not.

Linda had to shoot her husband a look that Gerard and Frank couldn’t see, causing him to finally get up off the sofa to greet his son properly.

Frank’s father stood tall in front of him, back straight, arms crossed, completely unwelcoming. He put his hand out for Frank to shake and Frank took it without a word.

“Nice of you to visit,” his father said. “Ten years isn’t long at all.”

Frank swallowed and bit at the inside of his lip, forcing back the many smart remarks that he could have easily retorted.

“Nice to see you, too, Dad,” he chose to say instead.

His father huffed and released his hand. Gerard quickly stepped forward, knowing that he would have to introduce himself because Frank’s father wouldn’t naturally and politely greet him the way Linda did.

“Gerard Way,” Gerard introduced himself, putting his hand forward. “I used to work at Frank’s record store.”

“Mr. Iero,” Frank’s father replied, keeping the handshake brief. Gerard should have expected that he wouldn’t be on a first name basis with the intimidating man, but he was still taken aback by his gruff nature.

He returned to the sofa he’d been at, once again giving all of his attention back to the TV.

“Frank, show Gerard to your room and you can leave your stuff there while I finish getting lunch ready,” Linda said, stepping in front of Gerard and Frank in order to block their view of her grouchy husband.

Frank nodded and began heading towards his bedroom.

“Oh, I brought this for you,” Gerard said, handing Linda the bottle of wine he’d just bought a few minutes ago.

“Oh, that’s sweet, Gerard,” Linda smiled, taking the bottle from him and reading the label. “Thank you.”

Gerard smiled shyly and then followed after Frank. He stepped into Frank’s bedroom and quickly shut the door, taking a deep breath.

“My dad still hates me,” Frank stated nonchalantly. “That’s fucking great.”

“Yeah,” Gerard nodded. “Well I don’t know about hate…he’s just…grumpy.”

“Yeah, he hates me,” Frank shrugged, looking around his room. He ran a hand through his hair, taking everything in. Not much had changed. It seemed as though his parents hadn’t moved or disposed of much in the ten years that Frank had been gone.

His room was mostly taken over by his twin-sized bed, and the walls around it were littered with random band posters. The other side of his room was occupied with his desk and dresser. The top of his dresser had been emptied, since it had consisted of colognes and deodorants that had long since expired. His desk, though, was still covered in the magazines and papers that he’d left behind. Resting against the side of his desk was his old guitar.

“Wow,” Frank sighed, going over to it and picking it up. He ran his hands over the strings. It was in great shape, still, seemingly untouched. He wouldn’t leave it behind again; he had to take it with him when he left.

“You doin’ alright?” Gerard asked, stepping up behind Frank and placing a hand on his waist.

Frank nodded, allowing his body to lean back against Gerard’s.

“It feels weird,” Frank said. “Everything does. I feel like I don’t belong here.”

“Your mom wants you here, though,” Gerard said, resting his cheek against the side of Frank’s head.

“Yeah, but…” Frank paused, standing the guitar up on his desk in front of him. Gerard gave him a soft squeeze through his sweater to urge him on. “She didn’t believe me back then, you know? And I’m sure it was because of my dad and you saw how he was acting. So, I dunno, I wonder if she still listens to him.”

Gerard hummed, understanding Frank’s concerns entirely.

“We just got here,” Gerard said, placing a kiss to Frank’s temple. “Seeing them for the first time was the hardest part. All the questions and stuff you have for them will come next.”

Frank nodded, taking a shaky breath. Everything felt like the product of a dream and a nightmare in one. Seeing his parents for the first time in ten years seemed too surreal. His mother’s tired and aged face crying out of joy, his father’s emotionless eyes saying nothing; it was all far from what he’d expected, weakening him in every way possible, and yet he couldn’t really picture it going any other way now that it had happened.

“Thanks for coming,” Frank sighed, placing a hand over Gerard’s that was on his waist. “I don’t think—no, I’m sure I couldn’t have done this alone.”


	60. Chapter 59: Changes

The dining room was filled with the sound of silverware tapping and scratching against plates, along with the sound of silent chewing, and coated with a tense awkwardness. Gerard and Frank sat opposite each other on the small rectangular dining table, while Linda and her husband sat opposite each other on the shorter sides.

When Frank first took a seat for lunch, he was excited to see that his mom had made the same vegetarian lasagna she used to make when he was younger. His mouth salivated with excitement while his mind indulged in nostalgic memories.

Halfway through the meal, Linda finally attempted to break the awkward silence.

“So, Frank, how has business been at the record store?” she asked.

Frank couldn’t help the short glance he gave Gerard, hoping it was subtle and unnoticeable. He swallowed and looked up at his mom. “Pretty good,” he said; he was going to leave it at that, but he felt bad seeing that his mom was actually putting forth an effort. “It’s practically mine, but not really, so I’m thinking of opening my own.”

“Oh that’s great,” Linda smiled. There was a genuine tone of pride to her voice and in her smile. “How will it be different?”

“Well I pretty much already run this one the way I want,” Frank explained, “but if I have my own, I’ll even control the kind of inventory we get. And I wanna make it all about local music.”

“Do you still play?” she asked excitedly.

“Yeah, but just at home,” he shrugged.

“Would you play for us later?”

Frank wanted to say no; he always said no. His parents were no different than anyone else who ever asked him to play, but he found that all the anger and resentment he held for his mother was deteriorating with every caring word and endearing smile she gave him.

“Yeah, maybe later,” he said, giving her a small smile.

When he turned his attention back to his plate of food, he got a short look at Gerard, who had a happy grin on his face. Frank had to bite the inside of his lip to keep his smile from matching Gerard’s.

“And Gerard, you don’t work with Frank anymore?” Linda asked.

“I only worked there for a couple weeks,” Gerard answered. “Frank just hired me as a favor to help me out while I looked for another job.”

“Oh had you two known each other before then?”

“Nah that was pretty much how we met,” Gerard answered.

“Oh well that was nice of you, Frank,” Linda commended her son. “So where do you work now, Gerard?”

“My brother’s an engineer and he got me a job as an office assistant.”

“He’s an amazing artist, though,” Frank chimed in, complimenting Gerard the same way that Gerard had done for Frank in front of his parents. “I’m pretty sure once he gets somewhere with his art, he won’t need a job like this anymore.”

Linda had distractedly forgotten her food, leaning forward against the table, fully engaged in the conversation. Franklin, however—Frank’s father—was only focused on his food, feigning disinterest at the conversation taking place.

“Oh I would have loved to see some of your art,” Linda said.

“You have your sketchbook, don’t you?” Frank said, looking up at Gerard with a smile on his face.

“Uh, I do,” Gerard blushed shyly.

“Ok then you’ll definitely show us later,” Linda nodded. “Are you looking to do anything specific?”

“Comics, yeah,” Gerard nodded, “but I’ll be happy to do anything, really.”

“That’s great,” Linda said.

The rest of the meal resumed silently. When they were finished eating, Linda hurried them out of the kitchen, instructing them to get Gerard’s sketchbook and Frank’s guitar. Gerard and Frank obeyed her instructions, sitting in the room, waiting to hear her finish cleaning. Not once did they exchange a word or look with Franklin.

Frank sat on the edge of his bed, tuning the guitar, while Gerard rummaged his backpack for his sketchbook.

“You’re such a dick,” Gerard said when he finally found his sketchbook. He sat cross legged on the floor, finding the drawings that he thought would be good enough to show Linda.

“I don’t wanna be alone in this,” Frank said. “I fucking hate playing my guitar for people, you don’t mind showing your art.”

“It’s going ok, though, right?”

“With my mom, yeah,” Frank sighed, finally satisfied with the sound of his guitar. “But…”

“Your dad?”

“Yeah,” Frank grimaced, staring down at his guitar. “He’s the one that taught me to play guitar. It’s gonna be…weird, like, playing in front of him now, you know?”

“Fuck, really?” Gerard sighed. “Do you not wanna do it?”

Frank stared down at the guitar, remembering the first time he’d held it in his hands. It had seemed so much bigger before compared to the size of his body; now it felt right at home. His hand fit around the neck and his fingers reached the frets without struggle. He ran his tattooed fingers over the strings, taking deep and steady breaths.

“No, I should,” Frank shook his head. “This is all about getting over the past, right?”

Gerard sat up on his knees, shuffling over to Frank so that he was in between his knees and in front of his guitar. He held his hands over the body of the guitar and smiled warmly. Frank felt an immediate scurry of butterflies go off in his stomach.

Gerard leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. It was short lived, but Gerard held his forehead against Frank’s.

“Proud of you,” he breathed onto Frank’s lips. “You’re really fucking strong for handling all this.”

“Thanks,” Frank smiled, pushing forward for one last quick kiss before they pulled away and carried on sitting at an innocent distance from each other.

Minutes after their short intimate exchange, Linda knocked on the door and then walked in, calling them into the living room. She grinned when she saw the guitar and sketchbook ready. When they took their seats in the living room, it felt almost like a show and tell done in middle school. Frank sank into the corner of the sofa he was in so that Gerard would take the hint and go first.

“I like doing portraits of people,” Gerard immediately started, flipping to the portraits he had in his sketchbook. Linda had taken a seat right next to him, and Gerard allowed her to hold the sketchbook, flipping through the pages while he explained who each person was and what they were doing. She stopped on the sketch of Frank.

“Oh, wow,” she gasped, even more amazed by the likeliness since she could actually compare it to the model it was based off of. “What was Frank doing?”

“Listening to music,” Gerard answered. “Whenever he has his headphones on, he’s just, like, lost in it.”

“Wow,” she sighed, running her fingers over the drawing. “You are amazing.”

“Thanks,” Gerard blushed. “You could, uh, keep that one actually…if you want.”

Her eyes snapped up to meet Gerard’s. “Really? Are you sure?”

“Of course,” Gerard nodded. “Here, I’ll rip it out for you.”

Gerard took the sketchbook from her and gently tore the paper out, careful to get it right out of the top and then he handed it to her. She stared down at it, and then looked up at Gerard gratefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Gerard.”

“It’s nothing,” he smiled.

“Now it’s your turn, Frank,” Linda smiled, looking around Gerard at her son who was still cowering away from them. It was easy to forget that his father was also there since he sat silently on the other sofa by himself. The only movement he made was to shift slightly when Linda placed the drawing of Frank on the table so that he could get a quick look at it; he showed no reaction.

“Right,” Frank nodded, sitting up properly and straightening the guitar in his lap. “Uh, I’ll just play something I wrote randomly, I guess…”

Frank angled his body so that he wasn’t facing his father while he played; he tried to convince himself that his father wasn’t present at all. He gripped the neck tightly, trying to keep his hands from shaking, took a deep breath and then loosened his entire body. He began playing a soft melody that he’d written years ago, the nerves being washed away with every note he played. He lost himself as usual in the song, his body swaying with the tune, his eyes locked on his moving fingers. Linda and Gerard were both leaning forward to watch, lost in the way that Frank had lost himself in the music.

The entire room was filled with the sound of the guitar playing; it lightened the bit of tension that had remained among them. Things seemed perfectly calm, normal, and relaxed until there was a shift from the other sofa. Frank’s hands stilled instantly when he saw his dad stand up from the corner of his eye. He looked up and found his father walking away from them, his face blank of any emotions. There was a tightening in Frank’s chest when he saw his father walk away from him playing, unsure of what to make of that sort of reaction. He looked down at the guitar, nipping at the inside of his lip, around his lip ring.

Gerard and Linda both watched Franklin exit the living room, and escape into his and Linda’s bedroom, shutting the door behind him. Gerard and Linda had a short moment of eye contact before they looked at Frank, both unsure of what to do for him at that moment.

Linda reached across Gerard so that she could place a hand on Frank’s knee. He looked up at her, eye brows furrowed.

“Keep going, honey,” Linda urged. “Please. It was really beautiful.”

Frank looked to the sofa that his father had been sitting on and then back at his guitar, going right back into playing, trying to replace his thoughts with nothing but the sound of his guitar. He shut his eyes and allowed the music to be all that he felt. His eye brows were furrowed, and eyes shut tight, fingers hitting each note even harder than before.

Gerard looked at Linda who was staring at her son with glossy eyes. He leaned towards her and softly whispered, “I’ll leave you two alone,” quiet enough for only her to hear. He carefully stood up off the sofa, not alerting Frank to his exit.

When Frank reached the end of the song, he opened his eyes, seeking out Gerard’s face before anything else, but found that only his mother was there.

“Gerard left us alone,” Linda explained, seeing that Frank’s eyes were searching already.

“Oh, right,” Frank sighed.

“You’re so talented,” Linda praised him. “That was so beautiful, I can’t believe you wrote it yourself.”

“Thanks,” he ducked his head, curling his body over the guitar.

“I remember when you were barely learning,” she sighed, sitting back in the sofa and staring ahead. “Before you left, you were just a beginner and now…you play like a professional.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to practice,” he shrugged.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she said suddenly, her eyes still ahead and not on Frank. Frank looked up at her, getting the chance to unabashedly stare at her face. She seemed as though she’d aged so much more than just ten years. He couldn’t even remember what his mother looked like ten years ago; he couldn’t remember how she’d looked when she was younger. The Linda he saw now was all he knew.

He just nodded at her statement, looking back down at the guitar.

“You probably haven’t missed me,” she smiled bitterly. “I understand that.”

“I have, though,” he mumbled. “I missed you…so much, but…I’ve just been too, I dunno, angry to feel anything else.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I hate that I’ve missed so much in these ten years. You had to grow up all by yourself…I wish it didn’t have to be that way.”

“I don’t regret leaving,” Frank said bluntly. Linda turned to look at him. “I wouldn’t have been happy if I stayed. I mean, it wasn’t easy being alone, and I hadn’t been happy for a long time, but…staying here wouldn’t have been better.”

“How do you know that?” Linda asked. “What if we tried to fix things again? You didn’t have to leave, we could have—”

“We wouldn’t have,” Frank cut her off. “Shit would have just been as awkward as it has been today.”

“You don’t know that, if you had stayed, maybe—”

“I’m not gonna be sorry about leaving,” Frank interrupted her, suddenly growing angry against his mother; he hadn’t felt any anger for her since the moment he saw her, but the anger was abruptly there, and it was burning Frank on the inside. “I’m glad I left. I’m so happy I left. I know, I just _know_ things wouldn’t have been ok if I stayed; you can’t convince me.”

Linda’s eyes went glossy and she blinked rapidly, hoping to be rid of them. “I just hate that I lost you.”

“It’s not my fault,” Frank shrugged. “It’s not my fault…I had no other choice.”

“You did, Frank,” she tried to argue. She’d scooted over slightly so that she was closer to her son, but her hands remained in her lap, afraid to actually reach out and touch him. “You did have a choice; things could have been different.”

“Seriously?” he laughed angrily. “You think you guys gave me a choice? I didn’t have a fucking choice. I felt…I…I felt hated after spending only one day here after juvie.”

“Frank, you were never hated,” she said sternly. “We could have never hated you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Frank scoffed. “I’d believe it for you, but Dad hates me, and you won’t even do anything about it.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Linda shook her head. “He just—”

“Are you gonna defend him?” Frank asked. “Seriously? You think anything he’s doing is fucking justified?”

“You just have to understand—”

“I don’t _have_ to understand shit!” Frank exclaimed, roughly setting the guitar on the ground. “Why should I have to understand shit that he does when you guys never bothered to fucking listen to me??”

“We tried, but—”

“No, you didn’t,” Frank shook his head. “You didn’t listen. You never did. And wow…” He paused and shook his head. He looked up at the ceiling, wanting to replace the sad tears trying to escape with nothing but anger. He didn’t want to show pain; all he wanted to show was anger. “Wow. You don’t even feel bad about what you guys did, did you? You still eat up everything he says to you. He’s so fucking thickheaded and he always thinks he’s right and he’ll never admit he’s fucking wrong in anything, and you just take all that shit even when it’s against me.”

“I understand you probably hate your father,” Linda spoke, her voice entirely calm. “So all you see are his flaws. But…when you love someone, you learn to accept them even with their flaws. I’ve just learned to accept all those things you said about him.”

“Because you love him?” Frank asked, his voice cracking a bit. Linda nodded. “So what about me? I’m your _son_.” Frank pressed a firm finger to his chest. “I’m your fucking son so where do I fit in there? What about me? What about when all that shit you love about him makes you go against me? You still love him and accept him then?”

“Frank,” Linda sighed.

“What?” Frank pushed. “What? What are you gonna say to that?”

Linda held her mouth shut tight, trying to fight back against the tears still trying to escape. “I don’t know how to handle it, Frank,” she spoke shakily. “I don’t want to drive you away, but I don’t want to drive him away either, so I don’t know how…or what to do.”

“Seriously?” Frank scoffed again. “I’m not asking you for much…Believe me. That’s it. That’s all I ever fucking wanted was for you to believe me and trust me and not turn your backs on me like you did, but you’re fucking doing it again! You’re doing it now. You always will if he tells you to.”

“That is not true,” she defended.

“You know it is,” Frank shook his head. “You will always take his word over mine. You still don’t fucking believe me about what happened, do you?”

“I…” She hesitated, as though she was thinking about her answer, and that was all it took for Frank to completely break.

“Oh my God,” he gasped, standing up.

She quickly looked up at him like she was ready to stop him from leaving, but he wasn’t planning on running away. He had more to say to her. He wouldn’t go until he had said it all.

“You know,” he said, his voice wobbling slightly but still calm, “yesterday I went to see Gerard’s family with him and I felt like I had known them my whole life. I felt so comfortable there, like I could live there for years without ever wanting to leave. I come here…and I wanna run away again. Ten years and that feeling is still there.”

“Frank,” she whimpered, the tears having won the battle and running down her cheeks.

“I’m not done,” Frank quickly said, bringing his hands up to his hair, scratching at his scalp. “You don’t even…I feel like you don’t know me. And yeah, I’ve been gone for ten years, but still…you didn’t know me enough back then to trust me and believe me, so now I feel like you never did. Oh, and Gerard’s mom, someone who never fucking met me, she noticed something that you probably didn’t even notice. Gerard’s not just a friend to me but you probably believed he was anyways…wrong fucking time to believe me, but you probably did.”

Linda was completely taken aback by that. “You mean…y-you two are…”

“Not a couple,” Frank shrugged, “we don’t know that yet. But I do love him and I…I know he loves me and we’re just…we’re figuring shit out, but we didn’t tell Gerard’s mom that. We told her we’re friends, but she saw it. She noticed how I was so comfortable when he was around and she realized there was something there. She didn’t even know me and she saw that but you’re so fucking far from me you couldn’t even see something like that.”

“You can’t blame me for that,” Linda cried. “You can’t blame me for not being able to know these things.”

“I do,” Frank shook his head. “I do blame you. I blame you and Dad for everything. None of this was my fault and you can’t fucking tell me it was. I blamed myself for so much, but Gerard helped me…he showed me that it isn’t my fault. None of what happened is my fault, so I _can_ blame you.”

“One day here and you’re making your mother cry,” a voice said from behind Frank. He turned to find that his father stood in the hallway staring at the two of them. “You leave us for ten years and you come to visit and this is what you bring with you. She hasn’t stopped crying for you and this is all you bring her. More reasons to cry.”

Frank opened his mouth to say something, but no words came to him. He just stared at his father. That was the most he had spoken to him since he arrived and there was nothing pleasant about it.

Franklin crossed the living room and leaned across the sofa to put his hand on Linda’s shoulder, comforting her as though she’d been the one to suffer the most pain in that room.

“Now you’re quiet?” Franklin went on. “What? Is it easier to yell at her and not me because of how vulnerable she is? You just take advantage of that?”

The anger Frank had felt earlier was bubbling at the surface at his mind, ready to erupt. “Fuck you,” he spat. “I fucking take advantage of her? Are you fucking kidding me?? You do! You turned her against me because you know how to get her to listen to you, because you know she loves you and will do anything for you. _You_ made her not listen to me. You fucking convinced her that I’m a liar. You’re the one that didn’t want to trust me in the first place.”

“Why the fuck should I have?” his father countered, his calm voice a contrast to the harsh words he spoke. It was a rarity that Frank’s father ever cursed, and growing up, Frank always knew that when his father cursed it was when he was at his angriest. “There was nothing to ever make me think you were innocent. Everything was against you and just because you were my son didn’t mean that I should have ignored the evidence.”

“What fucking evidence??” Frank yelled. “One guy saying I did it?? All he had was his fucking words just like me and you listened to his words instead of mine! Me being your son should have fucking changed everything! But you’re a fucking heartless bastard!”

“Frank, don’t,” his mother’s shaky voice chimed in.

“Tell _him_ to stop!!” Frank cried out, his voice cracking. “Why are you telling me to stop?? Fucking tell him! He’s wrong! He is. Why is it always me? Why don’t you fucking listen to me for once?”

“You come back here after ten years and attack us like this and expect us just to listen to you?” Franklin narrowed his eyes.

“You always just wanna blame me,” Frank said, stepping forward. He pointed a finger at his father, just inches from his chest. “You always wanna fucking blame me so you don’t have to carry that shit on your back.”

Franklin pushed Frank’s hand aside. “I don’t know why you came back if all you wanted was to cause more trouble.”

Frank felt those words go straight to his heart like an arrow and his eyes reacted straight away with tears flooding them, clouding his vision entirely.

“I’m your fucking son,” he gasped. “I can’t believe you fucking treat me like this and I’m your son. I wanted to come here and fucking…I don’t know…I just…God, fuck _this_ , fuck trying!”

Frank pushed past his father and headed towards his room. A body stopped him right at the entrance of the hallway and he tried to push it out of his way, but a hand held his wrist, gently yet firmly as well.

“Frank,” a familiar voice spoke and Frank was forced out of his mind and into reality, realizing that it was Gerard who held him from running into his room. He dropped his head against Gerard’s chest and forced his wrist out of Gerard’s grip so that he could wrap his hand around the back of Gerard’s neck, bracing himself against him. He thought being near Gerard would tame his emotions, help him replace his mask of calmness, but he felt every wall he had ever put up go crumbling down. Every amount of self-control he still had was abolished and he broke down entirely for the first time in ten years.

“Fuck,” he gasped and that was the only word he managed to say before the sobs were wretched out of him and his entire body gave out. He fell to his knees and Gerard was pulled down with him, wrapping his arms around his shaking body.

Gerard couldn’t even speak to comfort Frank because his own eyes were clouded with tears at having to see Frank fall apart the way he was.

Every emotion that Frank had tried to subdue over the past ten years, every bit of anger, sadness, and self-hatred, every tear and cry he’d forced away, were weighing him down, finally out of their locked cage. His whole body was shaking with the force of each sob that ripped out of his throat. The tears were an endless stream down his cheeks, soaking the front of Gerard’s shirt. Everything hurt, physically, mentally, and emotionally. All he knew at that moment was pain in every sense of the word. He couldn’t even take comfort in Gerard wrapping his arms around him, rubbing circles into his back, fingers massaging his hair, because he felt nothing but the betrayal of his parents and how it had not changed.

Gerard couldn’t measure how long he sat there, watching Frank continuously break right before his eyes. He knew there was nothing for him to do. He could comfort Frank as much as he wanted but he was not the one Frank needed at that moment. Gerard looked up with shiny eyes and found Frank’s parents standing, staring, just as helpless as him. He didn’t know what to make of Franklin’s detached expression, so he looked desperately to Linda, who had a hand over her mouth and tears on her cheeks. He mouthed, “Please,” and she finally stepped towards them.

Franklin reached for her, to hold her back, but she shrugged him off and continued around the sofa, dropping to her knees next to Frank. She pulled him by his shoulders away from Gerard, his body going easily. He was shaking less, his sobs having restrained slightly.

“Frank,” she spoke softly. “Baby, look at me.”

She held his face in her hands, swiping his face with her hands to clear the tears that were still running. He tried to pull his face away when he realized it was her holding him, but she held his face in place.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m sorry I never listened to you. I don’t—I don’t know what I was thinking. But I believe you. I swear I believe you. I should have believed you ten years ago, I should have listened, but I believe you now. I always will, ok?”

Shaky gasp-like breaths—the aftermath of sobbing—were still forcing their way out of Frank, but he managed to calm the rest of his body and keep the tears from continuing.

“Y-You’re just fucking saying that b-because of this,” he said, feeling absolutely pitiful and weak for being in the state that he was in.

“It doesn’t matter,” she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter what got me to listen, but I’m listening to you now and I believe you. I’m your mother and I want you to start feeling that from now on, you hear me?”

Frank could do nothing but nod.

She used one hand to wipe her own tears, getting a good look at his tear-stained face. “Piercings,” she laughed, running a thumb over his nose ring and lip ring. “I wouldn’t have allowed it if you lived here.”

“Tattoos, too,” he shrugged.

“Oh, don’t get me started on those,” she shook her head, smiling. “Do you forgive me, baby?”

Frank nodded without hesitation. “I always wanted to,” he said.

She pulled his head down to place a kiss on his forehead. “Go to the room for a bit while I figure some things out, ok?” she said and Frank felt like a child again, having to hide in his room so that he didn’t have to witness his parents resolving their problems.

He nodded and before he stood up, she reached around him to hold Gerard’s hand. “Thank you so much,” she said. “I’m sorry you had to…see all this happen, but thank you for being here, for loving my son.”

Gerard finally wiped his own tears away and held a hand over Linda’s. “I don’t need to be thanked for that,” he said simply.

Linda smiled, squeezed his hand, and then stood up, Gerard and Frank following in her lead. Linda placed a hand on Frank’s cheek one more time.

“Things are going to be different now, ok?” she said. “I promise.”


	61. Chapter 60: Fearless Trust

Gerard and Frank lay in Frank’s twin-sized bed, barely managing to fit both of their bodies on there. Gerard was on his back and Frank lay on top of him, his head on Gerard’s chest. Frank had one hand holding tightly to Gerard’s, and the other absentmindedly running up and down Gerard’s arm. He’d cried a few more silent tears when they entered his room, feeling all the frustration and pent up emotions finally emptying themselves out of him. At that moment, in Gerard’s presence, he expected to feel comforted after such a strong outburst of emotion, but the pain was still present. All he felt was this indescribable sadness that lurked in his chest, as though his heart was straining to beat.

“A drink would be fucking wonderful right now,” Frank sighed.

“I know,” Gerard sighed right back, not knowing how he could take that urge away when it was surely the only thing that could numb out Frank’s feelings.

“It’s really fucking hard not to just go for it when I feel…anything,” Frank mumbled. He turned his head so that he could press his forehead against Gerard’s chest, which was still soaked from Frank’s tears. “God, it’d be so much easier than to feel all of this right now.”

“But it’ll pass, you know,” Gerard said, bringing his hand up to rake his fingers through Frank’s hair. “It feels weird now ‘cause you just let all that shit out, but you’ll start to feel better, without the beer. You just have to wait it out.”

“That’s the worst part,” Frank muttered. “I just can’t stop fucking…thinking about everything and the more I think the worse it gets.”

Gerard sighed sadly. He wanted to help somehow. He wanted to do what the beer would do for Frank without also hurting him in the process. He released Frank’s hand and wrapped both arms around Frank’s body, holding him even closer than he already was. Frank turned his face to the side again so that he could properly enjoy the embrace. He nuzzled his face a bit higher, just high enough to tuck it comfortably into Gerard’s neck.

“I’m here,” Gerard spoke, arms tightening around Frank. “I can’t do what beer does, really, but…but I’m still here. I’ll do whatever you need me to or say whatever you need. I’m here and you’re gonna be fine.”

“That’s the only fucking thing keeping me sane,” Frank said. “You’re the only reason I haven’t just run outta here to get a drink or something.” He lifted himself up to get a good look at Gerard’s face. “I need to find new ways to thank you for everything.”

“You don’t need to,” Gerard smiled.

Frank allowed himself to lean down and indulge in a small kiss. He felt its immediate comfort surge through his body, replacing the painfully hollow feeling in his gut with a wave of warmth that tingled through him. He grew hungry for more, pressing his mouth harder into Gerard’s, opening up to him, exchanging breathless pants of air as their tongues uncoordinatedly entered each other’s mouths.

Frank couldn’t help the needy sound that escaped his throat, and the way his hands clutched desperately at any part of Gerard they could reach. He couldn’t help the way that strong desire for beer transformed itself into a yearning for Gerard. He knew it was dangerous. It was unhealthy for both himself and Gerard, but he couldn’t find a problem in moments like this, when he couldn’t imagine feeling better in any other way.

Gerard could feel Frank’s desperation in the kiss. He knew what it meant for Frank. He knew that it had come from that initial craving for some external source of comfort for his internal feelings. And he knew that he had to stop it because Frank’s constant pursuit of temporary comforts could only be short term.

Gerard brought his hands up to Frank’s face and gently pulled him away. Frank hung his head and didn’t even meet Gerard’s eyes because he knew. They both knew.

“Just relax,” Gerard spoke softly, urging Frank to lay his head back down against his chest. “Everything’s fine. We’re getting through all this shit together.”

Frank took a few deep breaths before finally speaking. “I think I just…I wanna get out of here,” Frank said. “I can’t—I really don’t wanna be here after all that. I know we’re supposed to stay the night, but—”

“We can go,” Gerard agreed. “Whenever you wanna leave.”

“Right now?” Frank asked hopefully, lifting his head up to look at Gerard.

Gerard couldn’t help but smile at the childlike innocence with which Frank asked him; it was such a harsh contrast to the painful realities he had actually experienced. Gerard nodded and Frank quickly scrambled off of him to gather his things.

Gerard sat up in bed and watched him dart around the room, pulling things out of drawers that he had always wanted to come back for, mainly CD’s that he’d been forced to leave behind. While Frank was rummaging at the bottom of his closet, there was a soft knock on the door and then it slowly cracked open. Linda walked in, her eyes bloodshot red, most likely from all the tears she had shed.

Frank stopped his digging and stood up from the floor, waiting to hear what his mom had to say. A part of him expected her to take back everything she had said earlier.

“Come here,” she said, holding her arms out to Frank, who didn’t hesitate to cross the room and embrace his mother. He was beyond relieved.

Linda held Frank tightly in her arms, taking deep breaths to keep herself from crying again. Frank returned the embrace with just as much need as he could muster. He could see Gerard over his mom’s shoulder, sitting on the bed and watching the two of them with a soft smile on his face. They locked eyes for only a moment before Linda pulled away from the hug, holding Frank back by his shoulders.

“Are you feeling ok? Better?” Linda asked, her heart aching every time she remembered her son’s sobs filling her ears.

“A bit, yeah,” he answered, nodding.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she sighed. “I can’t ever say it enough. I want things to change with us. I want to start over. I want you to forgive me for being so…so easily persuaded, and let me be in your life from now on. I want to be your mother again.”

Frank had to bite the inside of his lip to keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes. He nodded, unable to speak any words without breaking down into a mess of tears again.

He was so grateful that things could be different with his mother, and yet a part of him was worried that it could all vanish. He worried that the moment he got comfortable and happy with his mother again, things would go back to being what they were.

“I know you’re worried about your father,” his mother said, practically reading his mind. “I…I talked to him, but, well, you know how he is. You said it yourself, you can never get him to change his mind. But that’s him and from now on, that has nothing to do with me. He won’t get in the way of our relationship anymore.”

“Can you honestly promise me that?” Frank asked openly. “I don’t want…I don’t want this if it isn’t gonna last.”

Gerard watched the two of them with a huge smile on his face. He couldn’t explain the amount of pride he felt in Frank, watching him be so fearlessly open with his thoughts and feelings.

“I promise,” Linda nodded right away. “It won’t go back to that, ever. You have my word, Frank.”

“Thank you,” Frank smiled. It was a genuinely happy smile and it comforted Linda to no end to see that she could make her son smile. She never wanted to be the cause of so many tears in his eyes again. “We actually, uh, we were gonna get going, though. We just need to get outta here, it feels…”

His sentence drifted off, incomplete, but Linda understood anyway.

“I understand,” she nodded. “Just call me when you make it home safely.”

“I will,” he agreed. “When things start to settle, you should…you should come for a visit.”

Joyful tears filled her eyes and she smiled happily at her son. “I would love that,” she said, pulling him into another hug. When she pulled back, she quickly swiped at the tears that had managed to escape, and left them to gather their things.

Once they were finished, Frank’s backpack two times heavier than it was when he’d arrived, he held Gerard’s hand and they walked out of his room together. Gerard smiled down at their hands for a while before his attention was pulled back to Frank who’d suddenly stopped walking.

Frank’s father sat in the living room, Frank’s guitar resting next to him as though he had been playing it. Frank had planned to simply say goodbye to his mother and leave, but there was this sudden pull towards his father. It felt as though he had accomplished so much during his short visit and overcome so many emotional obstacles, that he couldn’t leave without truly confronting the biggest one.

Releasing Gerard’s hand, Frank walked right into his dad’s line of view, standing right in front of him. He crossed his arms and held himself tall, confident. He didn’t want to feel weak anymore.

“I’ve forgiven Mom,” Frank spoke monotonously. “She apologized and she says she believes me, and I forgive her now. She hasn’t really been in my life for ten years, but we both want that to change, so it will.”

Frank’s mother, who was in the kitchen, stepped into the kitchen’s entrance to properly see and hear what was going on. Linda knew of Franklin’s tendency to completely snap, and Gerard knew the exact same thing about Frank, so they both tensely and nervously watched and waited.

“I know you don’t believe me still,” Frank went on, “and I know you don’t want her to believe me, but just…I don’t care anymore what you think. I was really fu—I was hung up on wanting you to believe me, and how I couldn’t trust you, but I guess I’m over that now. If you don’t wanna believe me, I can’t change that. It’s not really my fault, so I can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna have Mom in my life from now on, and that makes me happy enough. And, well, what I’m trying to say basically is…”

Frank dropped his arms to his sides for a minute, sighing as he gathered the proper words to express his thoughts. His father was looking up at him the entire time, but was explicitly careful not to look directly into his eyes. Frank shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“What I’m saying is if you don’t wanna be in my life, fine, I am ok with that,” Frank said. “But don’t get in the way of my relationship with my mom anymore. I…I wanna have my mom in my life now and you’re not gonna get in the way of that. So do and feel whatever you want when it comes to me, but not her. Leave her out of it.”

The entire house was eerily silent. Frank couldn’t lie that a far part in his mind almost hoped that his dad would come to his senses and miraculously see things differently and maybe even try to communicate with him at that moment, but it wasn’t big enough of a hope to feel disappointment when nothing happened. Frank’s father stared silently for a few seconds before turning his head away entirely so that he wasn’t even looking in Frank’s direction.

“So, yeah, ok, that’s it,” Frank shrugged. He put his right hand out towards his dad, who caught it in his peripheral vision. Franklin took it and they shook on it like businessmen making an agreement. Frank finally felt absolutely nothing towards the man he shook hands with. He didn’t feel like his father; he felt like just another person. With that, Frank truly felt at peace.

When Frank finally turned to leave, he said goodbye to his mother at the door. She spoke a soft, “I am so _so_ proud of you,” into his ear as she gave him a suffocating hug. She also took the time to repeatedly thank Gerard for everything he did and asked him to always look out for Frank. Gerard promised to continue doing exactly that.

**

For hours after Frank and Gerard left, Linda spent her time cleaning Frank’s room. She hadn’t touched many things since he'd left, but she wanted to gather the things she felt were sentimental and memorable and take them to Frank whenever he called for a visit. She wanted to reminisce on the past while looking forward to a future with her son. She hadn’t spoken to her husband the entire time.

When she finally left the room, she took a glance into the living room and found her husband sitting on the sofa, Frank’s guitar in his lap, and Gerard’s drawing in his hand. He was staring at it intently, and Linda let out a loud sigh before going over to him.

He knew she was there, but he didn’t look up at her. He continued staring at the perfect depiction of his son before him, looking closely at him since he hadn’t done it while he was there. He had matured so much, adult-like characteristics gracing his features, but essentially, he still looked like his sixteen year old self.

“We have a chance, you know,” Linda spoke softly, sitting next to him and placing a hand over his fingers that were still wrapped around the neck of the guitar. “We can make up for all the time we missed.”

“It’s too late for that,” he said simply.

“It isn’t,” she shook her head. “He wants us in his life. You heard him. All this time, we thought he didn’t want us anymore, but he… he was just hurting. He wants us. We could have our son back.”

“You can,” he corrected her. “You can have your son back. I can’t. I won’t.”

Linda knew that was that. Her husband had always been unmovable and she had always known that, so she was grateful enough to know that he wouldn’t get in the way of her relationship with Frank.

“I’d like to frame the picture,” she said, looking around the living room that was bare of any photos. “I’d like it to look like we have a son.”

Franklin nodded and handed her the drawing and she took it to her room to look for a frame that would fit it. She could hear a melody extremely similar to the one Frank had played her earlier coming from the living room and it brought tears to her eyes. Ten years, and her husband hadn’t changed. Ten years ago, when their son left them, Franklin would sit in Frank’s room for hours playing the guitar, playing songs they’d learned together. And ten years later, his son had left him once again, and he sat playing the song that Frank had written without him.

**

Frank held Gerard’s hand on the entire drive home back to Hoboken.

“How do you feel?” Gerard asked, pulling away from the house. Frank looked back and watched as his neighborhood grew smaller, becoming nothing but a cluster of houses, and then he turned to face forward.

“Good,” Frank answered honestly. “It feels different and a little scary, but…it feels really fucking good.”

“You did really good,” Gerard smiled, squeezing Frank’s hand. “You did amazing. It went so much better than I would have even thought.”

“You think my mom is gonna keep her word?” Frank asked, unable to be rid of that inkling of doubt.

“I feel like she is,” Gerard shrugged, “but we’ll just have to find out. Either way, you did what you needed to.”

Frank nodded and for the rest of the car ride, they fell silent, accompanied by the sound of the radio loudly playing. Frank was also accompanied by one constant thought: Gerard. Every once in a while, he would glance down at their hands, Gerard’s pale fingers woven through his ink clad ones and resting over the roof of his hand, which was covered in even more ink. Then he would take a look further up, at Gerard’s face, too focused on driving to notice Frank’s obvious stare.

Frank couldn’t believe that this same person had walked into his store so many months ago, annoyingly asked for a job, and proved to be the biggest hindrance since Frank started working at the record store. He couldn’t believe that he had fallen for that same person. Gerard had been someone Frank thought would be in his life for a total of two weeks and then be long forgotten, and yet there he was, having gotten him through such a difficult ordeal. There he was, making Frank love in a way he never thought he would—never wanted to. Frank knew, without an inch of doubt in his mind, that he loved Gerard and that he wanted and needed him in his life. He no longer questioned it, no longer fretted over whether or not it would last, because he would do everything in his power to maintain it.

Frank had made up his mind, and now it was just a matter of adequately expressing all of this to Gerard.

**

It had been a couple of weeks since Frank visited his parents. He had gotten back to work already, trying to pick business back up after the huge decline since the shooting. Mostly, he focused on finding another employee; he had gone through rounds of interviews and was still on the hunt.

His mother had kept in touch over the two weeks, and so had he, calling each other every couple of days. They had a lot of catching up to do for the missed ten years, so there was always plenty of conversation. Frank knew he couldn’t ever tell her _everything_ that had happened, but he could easily go around certain events. His father seemed entirely nonexistent; that was definitely not a problem to Frank.

Frank had plans for the future. He had made one appointment with a real estate agent to look at another building for his own store; Gerard had accompanied him on the appointment and continued being his second voice on every decision that he made regarding the store, and regarding anything at all.

Frank had made a few decisions on his own, however. He had invited Gerard for dinner at his home, saying that for once he would be the one to do the cooking. Gerard, obviously, eagerly agreed.

Frank didn’t have much experience cooking, so it would definitely be a mission. He had called his mom and asked her for her simpler pasta recipes and then gone out to buy what he needed. Once everything was ready and cooked, he was proud of himself, until he actually tasted the sauce and immediately started gagging. It smelled great, but that was deceiving. Cursing at his stupidity and at whatever mistake he’d made, he put a lid over everything and decided they could order pizza later. Dinner wouldn’t be the main focus of their night anyways.

When Gerard rang the doorbell, Frank quickly scrambled to the door, adjusting his hair on the way there.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted him, smiling, when he opened the door. He stepped inside and gave Frank a quick kiss before he took off his shoes. “I smell food.”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, shutting the door. “Come to the kitchen.”

“You better not make me cook or help, cheater,” Gerard warned, following Frank into the kitchen.

“Fuck you, who says I need your help?!” Frank exclaimed dramatically.

“So you don’t?”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head and hopped onto the kitchen counter.

“Well, things smell good,” Gerard nodded, going over to the stove to take a look at the food. He was about to open the lid that had the sauce when Frank reached over and smacked his hand.

“Not yet, ass,” Frank said, pulling him by the arm so that he was standing in front of him, in between his knees. “You have to have the appetizer first.”

“Oh?” Gerard raised an eyebrow and licked his lips, leaning his body even closer to Frank’s.

“Not me,” Frank laughed, shoving him back playfully by his shoulder. “I mean, I taste great I’m sure, but that’s not the appetizer.”

“You suck,” Gerard pouted.

“Hey you’re gonna like the actual appetizer,” Frank said.

“Ok, fine, what is it?”

Frank reached behind himself and retrieved a cup that Gerard hadn’t noticed earlier. Frank had been planning to be really creative with how he did this, but every idea he had seemed way too difficult, so he went with a simple small cup that was opaque.

“Here,” Frank said, handing him the cup.

Gerard could tell by the way Frank held the cup that it was empty, so he wasn’t sure what exactly he was supposed to do with it. He stared at Frank warily while taking the cup and was quick to notice that there was something inside. He looked down at the cup and saw a key sitting at the bottom. His eye brows furrowed, unsure of what to make of it, and not wanting to make quick assumptions. He turned the cup upside down so that the key fell into his palm.

“Uh…” Gerard spoke nervously, a million thoughts running through his head already. “What’s this?”

Frank took the cup from him and set it aside, then placed his arms over Gerard’s shoulders, hands running over his neck and back.

“I’ve been looking around,” Frank said, his eyes down, locked on the key in Gerard’s hand, “and I found a nice apartment. Better than this one, bigger. It has a master bedroom and it has two extra rooms. One can be a guest room for whenever family wants to come visit. And the other room can be a studio for your art. And just, like, a place to keep _our_ extra stuff.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gerard shook his head, “you’re asking me to move in with you? A new fucking place for us?”

“Yeah,” Frank shrugged, a bit nervous that Gerard hadn’t answered him yet. “If you want…I mean, it’s cool if you don’t wanna move out of you and Mikey’s place, but—”

“Shut up,” Gerard laughed. “Shut the fuck up.”

Frank was about to disregard Gerard’s words and continue speaking, but Gerard forced him to shut up by pressing his mouth to his. It was a string of rushed kisses, not really giving Frank the time to react properly.

“Fuck yes,” Gerard beamed when he pulled back, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet with excitement. “You’re such an asshole! Oh my God, yes!”

“Thank God,” Frank let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve been freaking out about asking you this whole fucking week. I don’t know what the fuck I would’ve done with a place that has three rooms.”

“You seriously thought I would say anything other than yes?” Gerard shook his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Frank’s. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

“And you want me not to worry?” Frank countered. “It’s like you don’t know _me_.”

“Touché,” Gerard nodded. “One thing I didn’t actually know about you is that you are so fucking cheesy.”

“Fuck off,” Frank groaned, rolling his eyes, turning his head away from him.

“Hey, I never said I don’t love it,” Gerard quickly added, leaning down to place kisses against the side of Frank’s neck.

Frank shut his eyes for a moment, tilting his neck back, sighing at the tingling he felt as Gerard’s lips travelled up to his jaw.

“You know,” Frank said breathily, pulling his jaw away from Gerard so that he could look him in the eyes. “I never, like, said it properly or whatever. But you know it, right?”

“What?” Gerard cocked his head.

Typically, Frank would have struggled to say it. He would have stuttered and stumbled over it and then tried to find a way to leave the topic completely. He had left that far behind, though.

“That I love you,” Frank said sincerely, no hesitation and no second guessing. “You do know that, right?”

Gerard grinned so wide that his eyes shrunk a bit and that was by far Frank’s favorite smile.

“Of course,” Gerard nodded. “And I know you know I love you, too, so how about we push dinner back a bit? ‘Cause I’m not hungry for food right now.”

Frank smirked at that and scooted himself closer to the edge of the counter so that he could wrap his legs around Gerard, keeping their bodies entirely pressed together.

“Sounds good,” Frank nodded, ghosting his lips over Gerard’s, enjoying the feeling that they had all the time in the world to do as they pleased. All limitations had been eliminated. “Dinner kinda sucked anyways, so we’re gonna have to order pizza later.”

“I fucking knew it,” Gerard laughed, his breath huffing out onto Frank’s lips.

“Asshole,” Frank spoke right into Gerard’s mouth before engaging in a heated and rushed kiss.

They had always taken things slowly each time they did anything because they wanted to linger in that moment, unsure of when the next would come. This time, there was no such worry. They knew that this time, together, would be one of many, so they could rush through it, because they would have plenty of times to take it slow.

There was no hesitance and no gradualness in the way they made out in the kitchen, impatient groans and sighs filling the air around them. Their hands were restless, seeking out skin where they could find it, rucking up shirts and dipping past necklines just to get some contact.

The urgency remained as Gerard pulled Frank from the counter and they tripped over each other’s feet, blindly making their way out of the kitchen. They only made it to the wall in the living room, Gerard pressing Frank’s body up against it, and immediately ridding them of most of their clothes. They had no patience to take it anywhere else, so they remained against the wall. They only paused for a minute, Gerard running to the room in his boxers to get lube while Frank finished undressing himself. When Gerard got back, Frank was entirely undressed and Gerard felt his desires take complete control.

It was fast, faster than they’d ever gone, Frank facing the wall and Gerard pressed up against his back, pushing into him, and yet it was the most intimate they’d ever gotten; it was the closest. There was no doubt about what they felt for each other as Gerard thrust into Frank, bit at his shoulder whenever he felt Frank constrict around him, and moaned into each other’s mouths whenever Frank turned his head for a quick kiss.

There was absolutely no doubt of where things stood in terms of their relationship when each of them came with loud and long moans. Everything was fast and yet everything was more intense than it had ever been.

With their bodies languid, Gerard dragged them into the bedroom and got settled underneath the always familiar Star Wars blanket.

“We haven’t had dinner,” Frank said lazily, as Gerard tucked his head into Frank’s neck.

“Nap first,” Gerard mumbled, yawning. “Dinner later.”

“Sleeping after sex is a thing for you then,” Frank noted, running his hand through Gerard’s hair.

Gerard hummed, nodded, and then Frank could feel Gerard’s body loosen up in his arms as he began falling asleep. Frank smiled into the empty room, his hands still running rhythmically through strands of Gerard’s hair. He felt amazing; everything about that moment felt amazing.

Just as sleep started to pull Frank’s eyelids closed, he heard a loud vibration from his nightstand. Keeping Gerard’s body as still as possible so that he didn’t wake him, Frank reached for his cell phone. There was a new text message, which was strange because he didn’t text anyone other than Gerard. The text message was from Hambone.

The text read: “I know u missed me! Boys back in town tomorrow!”

Frank smiled at the text and looked down at Gerard’s sleeping body next to his. Other than Gerard, Hambone was the only person who made an effort to constantly be in Frank’s life, despite Frank’s tendency to be a complete asshole. Frank realized just then how much he actually appreciated Hambone and how much of a friend he had been to him. He always kept pushing away, keeping his guard up, afraid of the pain that might come with trusting someone. At that moment, though, with Gerard sleeping in his arms, he was no longer afraid. He knew that trusting people and being hurt was an inevitable part of life, but he truly felt as though he could handle it if he had Gerard by his side. As long as Gerard was there for him to turn to at the end of the day, he had no problem allowing people to enter his life.

And whether or not he liked to admit it, his barriers had always wavered when it came to Hambone and his resolutely loud attitude.

Frank nuzzled his face into the hair that fell over Gerard’s temple while writing a text back to Hambone: “Can’t wait for your annoying ass to be back. I have a lot to tell you.”


	62. Epilogue: Reconstruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Works inspired by this fic:
> 
> [Art for chapters 1-10](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/post/79932855933/), [chapters 11-20](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/post/80010559879/) by the lovely [Kels](http://ray-tororo.tumblr.com/) (Quite spoilery so beware)
> 
> [Mix](http://8tracks.com/solidghosts/so-long) by the wonderful [Giulia](http://solidghosts.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this 200k beast!!! It was a great journey writing it for over a year and I hope it was just as great as a journey for you all to read :)
> 
> Thank you <3

_A year and a half later_

“Fuck no, hell no,” Frank spoke angrily into his cell phone while he drove home. “No fucking way I’m giving them special treatment.”

“It’s not special treatment, man,” Hambone spoke on the other end of the phone. “It would just be a smart business decision, you know?”

“No, it would be fucking unfair,” Frank said. “Try to convince me how this would be fair to all the other labels, or even the unsigned guys. What if they asked me about it? What would I tell them? You’re fucking worth less than them?”

“Alright, alright, man I get where you’re coming from,” Hambone sighed, knowing Frank’s level of anger had reached its limit. “You know I agree with you; we just gotta think from different angles.”

“I know,” Frank said, trying to calm himself down. “It’s just really getting on my nerves that they won’t leave it alone.”

“That’s how this business works,” Hambone said. “They’ll let it go eventually.”

Frank pulled up to his apartment, putting the car in park, and shutting the engine off. “I’ll talk to you later, Hambone.”

“Ok, calm your nuts, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Alright.”

Frank hung up and let out a frustrated sigh, scrubbing at his tired eyes. He had hardly been getting any sleep, too busy making arrangements, yelling at people, and trying to keep calm through it all. It had been a year since the grand opening of his store and while the first few months were mostly calm and easy to handle, his stress levels had risen along with the store’s success; since they went hand in hand, though, he couldn’t really complain.

He left his car with his anger still flaring, evident by the way he slammed his car door and then proceeded to assault the door knob with his keys. When he got into his apartment, he could hear music playing loudly from one of the rooms. It was obviously Morrissey’s voice singing, but he was too distracted by his anger to even identify the song. Moments after he slammed the door, the music ended and Gerard stumbled out into the living room. He was wearing a t-shirt covered in holes as well as paint, and sweat pants that were in the same shape as his shirt. His arms had smudges of various colors on them and Frank could even see that a bit of it was in his hair.

“Hey, you’re home finally,” Gerard smiled.

“Yeah,” Frank nodded, not in the mood for any conversation. He shrugged his sweater off and tossed it onto the coffee table and then sat down to get his shoes off.

Gerard immediately sensed Frank’s mood. Something had angered him, most likely work related since he was running extremely late, and he wasn’t planning to talk about it just yet.

“I brought home some dinner with me,” Gerard said, picking at some paint that was on his forearm. “I ate ‘cause I didn’t know when you’d be home, but I left you some food on the counter. You should probably heat it up, though.”

“Thanks,” Frank said, getting up from the sofa and exiting to the kitchen. Gerard also left the living room, but left the other way, going back into the room he’d been in. One side of the room was littered with boxes of things that Frank and Gerard simply hadn’t found a place for, and the other side was covered in Gerard’s art. The walls were covered with splattered paint that Frank always complained about because if they moved out, they would be responsible for cleaning it and repainting it before they left.

Gerard pushed the easel he’d been using to the corner of the room and replaced all the caps on the open cans of spray paint.

Frank found a bag with a veggie burger and some fries in the kitchen, so he put them out onto a plate and stuck them into the microwave. He ate his dinner in the living room, turning the TV onto a random channel that was playing some old music videos.

Their living room was covered in photos, some of them were paintings or drawings by Gerard, and others were those that he’d bought. On the wall above the TV were two photos. One was of Gerard, Frank, Mikey, Alicia, Don, and Donna on the past Fourth of July. The other was of Linda, Gerard, and Frank on the grand opening of Frank’s store. In between the photos hung Frank’s first guitar that his mom had brought him from home, and it was signed by Glenn Danzig. Frank couldn’t help but smile every time he looked up at it. He and Gerard had waited in line for hours to meet him and it was one of the many adventures they’d been on together.

Frank was interrupted from his reminiscing—stuck on the image of Gerard shaking in line and then stuttering and losing the ability to speak when Danzig shook his hand—by Gerard himself.

“Hey, I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Gerard announced from the entrance of the living room. Frank had a mouthful of food and couldn’t respond, but Gerard just smiled and left to their bedroom. He knew not to bother Frank too much when he was in a moody state.

Frank finished eating his food, cleaned his plate, and then headed towards the bedroom, shutting all the lights off in the rest of the apartment. In the middle of the room was their bed, and on one side of the room—Gerard’s side—was a large bookcase, every inch of it filled with comic books and novels. On the opposite side—Frank’s side—were a few guitars that the two of them had decided to invest in, as well as a smaller shelf filled with CD’s and vinyl records, topped with a record player.

Gerard lay in bed, a sketchbook held up on his chest. He was too engrossed in whatever drawing he was staring at to notice Frank walk in.

Frank took his shirt off and changed into a pair of sweats, then crawled into bed next to Gerard. Gerard finally noticed him and lay the sketchbook down to turn his attention to Frank.

“Sorry,” Frank sighed, laying on his side.

“Bad day?” Gerard asked, smiling at Frank’s guilty face.

“Infuriating,” Frank nodded. “The fucking record label I was telling you about keeps wanting to change their contract. They wanna get a larger cut of the profits, like, what the fuck??”

“Still?” Gerard asked, having heard Frank complain about this same thing before.

“Yes,” Frank said. “They won’t drop it. I’m not fucking negotiating shit with them and today they started saying they wanna just terminate the contract since we won’t compromise, and I honestly don’t give a fuck. We won’t lose enough to set us back if they leave.”

“So you wanna just let them terminate it?” Gerard asked.

“If that’s what they want, yeah,” Frank shrugged. “’Cause I’m not giving them more than anyone else.”

“The whole point of this is to be fair, isn’t it?” Gerard said. “I mean the fucking motto of the store is that unsigned guys and signed guys are on the same level when it comes to us.”

“Exactly!” Frank exclaimed. “I’m not gonna change the whole basis of our business for one fucking label. I mean, I love the bands we have in our store thanks to them, and like you remember Trish, Alex, and Nate?”

“Oh, yeah, you met them when you were barely opening the store, right?”

“Yeah,” Frank nodded. “And they were each in an unsigned band when we opened but now they’re with this fucking record label and I don’t wanna not sell their shit, but I can’t play favorites.”

“They’ll understand,” Gerard said, placing a hand on Frank’s arm. “It’s not up to you anyways, you know? And to be honest, I don’t think the label will actually end the contract.”

“We’ll see,” Frank sighed, scooting closer to Gerard so that he could snuggle into his side.

Whenever things got too crazy and the weight was too hard to carry, Gerard always knew exactly when to give Frank the space he needed. He knew it was best not to try and pry the situation open, and that if he let Frank cool down on his own, he would eventually come to Gerard without being asked. It took them awhile to figure each other out enough to gain this balance, having to have a few arguments on the way, but it was an easy going harmony now.

“I’ve been working on something,” Gerard said, wanting to get Frank’s mind off the stress of work. “I was thinking the business cards could use an upgrade.”

Gerard lifted the sketchbook from his chest and Frank lifted his head to get a good look at it. The name of the store, “Heart of Jersey,” was written in a font that looked like it had been scraped with a pair of jagged nails. Behind it, drawn very lightly so that it was barely visible, were musical notes written on a staff that was drawn so that it swirled around the page in a wave.

“Fuck, this is good,” Frank said, shifting onto his elbow and taking the sketchbook from Gerard to get a better look. “I fucking love it.”

“Thanks,” Gerard grinned. “So you approve?”

“Hell yeah,” Frank nodded.

“I was thinking I could get it all done and printed before I leave,” Gerard said, shutting the sketchbook when Frank handed it to him. He reached over and left the sketchbook on his nightstand, then settled back on his side, holding Frank in his arms.

“Don’t remind me,” Frank sighed.

“Sorry,” Gerard laughed lightly, kissing Frank’s temple.

Thanks to the opening of the store, Gerard was able to get in contact with a lot of different bands and help them with their merchandise. His main job, though, was with Pencey Prep, basically doing all of their artwork, from album covers to logos and T-shirt designs. Because of that, he would be going with them to a few festivals they were scheduled to play in the next month so he could handle all of their merchandise. It would be the first time Gerard and Frank spent such a long time away from each other since moving in together.

“We’ll be ok, though,” Gerard said. “The month will fly by.”

“I’m not gonna like it,” Frank said, looking up at Gerard to pout at him.

“Don’t tempt me, asshole,” Gerard laughed, shoving Frank’s face down. “Hambone would kill you if I bailed on him.”

“He already kicked my ass the other day for telling him that I wouldn’t let you go,” Frank smiled, looking back up at Gerard. “But, seriously, fucking Mikey and Alicia get to tag along and I’m stuck here.”

“If it was any other time, you probably could have managed to come for, like, half the shows at least,” Gerard said.

“Yeah, but the fucking performances start right when you guys get back,” Frank groaned. “Fuck, I’m gonna be so stressed while you’re gone.”

For a long time, they’d been planning to do small shows at the store, and they had finally gotten a stage set up. For the first night doing performances, they wanted to gather as many bands as possible, both signed and unsigned, to give everyone a taste of what the shows would be like.

“Call me whenever you get stressed,” Gerard said. “You’re an idiot when you’re pissed.”

“I will,” Frank nodded. “I’m gonna annoy the fuck out of you.”

“I don’t mind,” Gerard laughed, running a hand through Frank’s hair so that it was out of his face. He leaned down and let their lips touch for only a moment.

“You know,” Frank spoke, tucking his face into Gerard’s neck and wrapping his arms tightly around him, “I honestly don’t know how to handle shit without you.”

“I know,” Gerard sighed, slipping a hand beneath the blanket they were under so that he could rub at Frank’s back, feeling goosebumps rise wherever his hand touched.

There was a small unspoken fear that they were both perfectly aware of but didn’t bother to vocalize. That fear was that if Frank really got overwhelmed and had no one immediately present to anchor him to calmness, he would resort to drinking. There had been more than one occasion during which Frank got very close to it, and Gerard was the only reason he hadn’t actually given in. There had been one occasion when Frank actually slipped. It was days before the store opened and Frank felt as though everything was falling apart. His nerves and his stresses joined forces against him. He was out grocery shopping when he decided to go to a bar instead and drink his nerves away. He had gotten completely wasted, having had to call Gerard to pick him up because he couldn’t even walk himself out of the bar.

It had been scary for them both to realize that Frank could easily sink that low again and it had been terrifying for Gerard when Hambone wanted him to leave for a month. His immediate response had been no, and it was actually Frank that convinced him to do it. Frank didn’t ever want to be the reason Gerard held himself back from doing things he wanted.

“I’ll be ok, though,” Frank breathed onto Gerard’s neck, wanting to assure them both. “I’ll just keep in mind that you’ll be back.”

“Before you know it,” Gerard nodded.

Frank pulled his head back to go in for another kiss, a bit longer than the first, a bit more meaningful, communicating to each other that they would be perfectly fine.

Frank believed in himself only because he knew that Gerard believed in him. Frank had Gerard, he had his mother, he had Gerard’s family as his own, he had friends because he didn’t push everyone he met away, and he had his own business in music that he could run however he pleased.

Gerard had been the one to come in and demolish every wall Frank had built up around himself, and then Gerard had been the one to help him reconstruct his life entirely. Everything was going well and it was all thanks to Gerard so the least he owed him was to prove that he could sustain what they’d built together until Gerard got back to him.


End file.
